


Ask me if I'm afraid of dying, no I am afraid of living

by Charlie_Michelle



Category: The 100 (TV), The 100 Series - Kass Morgan
Genre: Angst, Before You Go, Depression, Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Romance, Everything Hurts, F/M, Family Drama, Hurt/Comfort, Inspired by Music, Multi, Recovery, References to Depression, Sad with a Happy Ending, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, graphic depictions of suicide, lewis capaldi - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-24
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:21:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 43,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22871650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Charlie_Michelle/pseuds/Charlie_Michelle
Summary: Clarke Griffin and company had been many things in their time out of space, they've been leaders and warriors, they've been friends and confidants...And then…Life has led these normal teenagers and young adults astray, left them with damaged physically and mentally. It led them in circles, through wars and in uphill battles. It pulled them apart to shove them back together to rip them at the seams without so much as a backwards glance.And yet...Good things can come from bad circumstance. Good people can make bad decisions. Not all is lost, even when the darkest of voices leads you to the end. Their story has not ended yet and her fight is not over.
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin, Bellamy Blake/Echo, Emori/John Murphy (The 100)
Comments: 35
Kudos: 135





	1. Before You Go

**Author's Note:**

> Please be aware, part one has a heavy -and I mean heavy, dose of depression and suicidal ideation as well as a descriptive attempt. Please move forward with caution if those topics are sensitive to you. This is a slow burn! It is also end game Bellarke. 
> 
> Also! I'm apologizing for the crap formatting, if you'd like check out the story with the emphasis and formatting I was looking for check out my fanfiction page! It's the same username, the title of this work just may be a smidge different than on here. You can also check me out on tumblr! My url is clairetheair :)

I fell by the wayside, like everyone else  
I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, but I was just kidding myself…  
__________________________________________________________________________

Clarke Griffin had been many things in her time out of space, she had been a leader and a warrior, she’d been a friend and confident, she’d been the Commander of Death. Yet, nobody could see that Clarke Griffin had also been a young girl, a child in a big scary world and worst of all, nobody could see how absolutely lost she was. Perhaps it was because at one point in her life she wasn’t lost; she was a typical teenager on the Ark with typical teenage drama. She had friends and parents that loved her, she had her art and she had found her calling in the medical bays alongside her mother. 

And then…

And then she had found herself in solitary confinement. She had found herself staring at white walls. She had found herself curled up on a cold lumpy mattress with a threadbare blanket that was scratchy to the touch and a flat pillow that felt nonexistent most nights. She had found herself remembering her fathers’ words, his hushed but brisk tone and the desperation in his eyes. She found herself remembering the last time they touched, how tight the hug was, and the bone crushing realization that this was it and this was how life on the Ark was going to end. She remembered his eyes, the same shade of her own, as they peered into her. “I love you Clarke, do you hear me? I love you.” 

And then Jake Griffin was floated. 

And then, standing at the airlock that her father had just been ejected from with tears in her eyes and trembles in her hands, her mother –her own fucking mother, had her placed in handcuffs and carted away to confinement. Sent her off with ease, not so much as a blink as Clarke sent look after look after look over her shoulder. Abby Griffin visited her daughter the following day and Clarke sat on her lumpy mattress with her eyes on her knees, Abby didn’t sit down, didn’t run a hand through her daughters’ hair, didn’t whisper the comforting words that she desperately needed to hear and didn’t offer any acknowledgement to the death of her husband. No, Abby Griffin did none of those things, but she did insist that this was for Clarke’s own good. 

Clarke spent a lot of time reliving her final moments with her father in that room. She spent a lot of nights laying awake and listening to the hum of the Ark and replaying his words. She tried to imagine his calculations and blueprints in front of her, tried to find a flaw somewhere in her mind, but the reality was still reality. The Ark was dying. The Ark was dying and her dad was dead and she was next. The Ark was dying, her dad was dead and she was next, but not like that, not by their hands. Things spiraled from there, because Clarke fixated on things, it was simply how her mind worked and once an idea forms she can’t shake it. So she begins to plan it all out, in meticulous detail and runs through all the possible situations. After all, she has a year until they come knocking on her door. 

Over the course of that year she figures out the cleanliest way is the best way, no need to leave a mess behind –although the shade of her blood would complement the artwork she’s tattooed onto the walls of her cell quite nicely. She took time to draw out tress and landscapes, beaches and people –her father. She’s still so angry at everyone else in her life; at Wells because he told his father, at Thelonius because as Chancellor he should have seen this as something to bring to the peoples attention, not treason and worst of all at her mother for hitting that damn button. All the anger in the world doesn’t stop the fact that Clarke Griffin is going to die on her eighteenth birthday, it just solidifies that she’s going to die at her hands and on her terms. She figures that leaving a note is too cliché, plus she’s still too angry to even think about apologizing to them. 

She’s been in solitary confinement for almost a year, two weeks left to go and Clarke feels ready. She’s ready to die. She’s ready to put –what she now sees as miserable example, of life in a metal deathtrap to end. She’s ready to finally take control of her life, even if it’s just to end it. She’s made peace with herself and with her maker. She took up to filling the last of the available space in her cell, she’s on the ground drawing these ongoing empty swirls and tries not to think about the emptiness that has built itself into her core, she tries not to think about how she went from being a normal and happy person to this shell of desperation. She tries not to think about it, because clinically she knows that she’s not some martyr that’s seeking social justice, she’s depressed and somehow that’s something much worse to live with than with the weight of her father’s death and her mother’s cold stare. 

Her door is forced open and guards are coming in ordering her to stand up and put her hands behind her back and to hurry up and all she can think is that they know and of course that sets off an urgency in her; “I still have two weeks! It’s not time yet!” and she’s being shoved and pushed and she’s fighting, she doesn’t notice that all of the cells that surround her also being emptied and other kids are being shoved and yelled at. She does, however, see her mother, but she can’t make out what Abby is trying to say to her before they prick her neck with a sedative and all she sees is black. 

She doesn’t have time to process that her plans are ruined because she’s on the ground and suddenly survival seems to be the most important thing for everyone.  
___________________________________________________________________  
Our every moment, I start to replace  
‘Cause now that they’re gone, all I hear are the words I needed to say…  
____________________________________________________________________

This new planet brings something to everyone left on the ring, something like hope and warmth, because no matter how hard you tried you couldn’t get warm on the ship in space. Space wasn’t meant for things like happiness and heat, space wasn’t meant for hope and for dreams, space was a void that held nothing but endless worry and nightmares. Perhaps, it wasn’t space that held nightmares but the minds of the people that were orbiting this new planet, the planet with two suns, the planet that was supposed to be their home. How though? How could they be sure that this place was meant for them? How could they be sure they weren’t about to restart the same tiring routine; war, sacrifice, live, war, sacrifice, live, war…

Clarke had to blink quickly at the mass of human that collided with her. Her daughter, by choice, Madi had wrapped her up in a tight hug and had a smile on her face that could light up the sky. Clarke smiled softly and brushed her hand through the dark hair that now rested just below her chin. “I’m sorry, what were you saying?” 

She realizes that she was still standing on the ground, again, surrounded by her people. No, not her people, just the people that survived alongside of her, she thought bitterly. She was as alone in that moment as she had been in solitary confinement all those years ago. She was as alone in that moment as she had been in the months that followed Mount Weather, in the months that followed the rocket leaving without her. Clarke sometimes thinks that she wasn’t meant to be part of something as wholesome as a family that she was always meant to be that lonesome girl in the cell by herself with the only window looking out into the hallway. 

“You still aren’t listening Griffin.” It’s Echo that snaps at her this time and Clarke has to bite the inside of her cheek, it’s not worth the effort to argue with the new co-leader of their camp. “We are planning out where everyone’s hut is going to go and you’ve yet to tell us where you’d like to be placed.” 

Clarke raises an eyebrow, “I don’t need a hut I can make do with a tent.” 

“Don’t be stupid Princess, this is our forever home, and we have the right to make ourselves comfortable.” Bellamy says it so easily, but she wonders if he’s trying to convince himself as hard he’s trying to convince her. “There’s nothing wrong with wanting some shelter.” 

“Fine, but do mine last.” Clarke can tell he’s about to argue so she quickly cuts him short; “I think we should evaluate everyone and ensure that we’re all healthy, anyone that fell short during the evaluation should get a more permanent shelter first. Then go in order of necessity.” 

“And how do we determine that?” Raven is the one that snipes out the question and Clarke has to close her eyes for just a second, because for a second she can pretend that Raven doesn’t hate her, even though she does, she really, really does. “I say we just build the huts, first come first serve.” 

“Well that’s not going to work, that invites chaos.” Diyoza said in contemplation, “We can’t give off the appearance that us as the leaders are unsure what to do, remember most of our numbers are known criminals.” 

“The leaders have already been determined, so we’ll determine how to sort out housing.” Echo looks around the group in a way that Clarke can only assume is to open up a challenge. Their circle is small; Raven, Echo, Bellamy, Murphy, Diyoza and Clarke. Madi is there as well, but Clarke suspects she’s there simply because she has nowhere else to be at the moment. 

Clarke decides in that moment to step out of the circle, Madi is with her arms tight around her middle and it grounds her. She can hear someone, probably Raven, demanding to know where she’s going, but in that moment she doesn’t see the point. There’s no purpose in standing in that circle, she’ll give her opinion and then be insulted only for them to take her suggestion to heart. It’s a never ending circle of frustration that’s been occurring ever since the Josephine incident. Clarke would scoff, incident is not how she would classify that, but according to some people (read; Echo) she didn’t actually have a right to form an opinion on anything. 

“So where are we going to go?” Madi can sense the heaviness that rests on her mother’s shoulders; she can see how it hurts her to be so far from her friends. Madi wonders if these are really the people Clarke spent four years talking about, because for as long as she’s known them they’ve yet to hold up to those stories, those expectations. “I think the edge of camp would be cool, by the wooded trail.” 

Clarke smiles softly and wraps her arm around the shoulders of her fierce daughter. “You do? I figured you’d want to be right in the middle of camp.” 

Madi shrugs; “I want what’s best for you Clarke and we both know you’d hate being in the middle of everyone and everything.” 

“That’s supposed to be my line kid,” Clarke says with a laugh, she pauses in their walk and turns to face Madi, “…so long as I have you I’d be happy anywhere.” 

Madi beams; this is the Clarke she knows and loves, this woman right in front of her with eyes as blue as the skies on Earth and a soft smile that was reserved only for her. This is the Clarke that she remembers taking care of her on Earth when it was just the two of them. This is the Clarke that Madi feels the most herself with, even on the days when she’s not herself and she’s the voice of every other commander of the past, “In that case, maybe somewhere in the middle?” 

Clarke hugs Madi to her and hums; “That would be great.” 

A week later Madi asks if it’s ok if she stays with Raven for a few nights and Clarke agrees (she doesn’t want to) and after a week of Madi being gone Clarke silently leaves their hut. Madi’s stuff is still in there, but Clarke removes herself and her belongings and sets up her tent –which she made herself, just on the outskirts of the camp border with the wooded path to her left. She figures that she was always meant to live in solitude and it makes things so much easier that way.  
_________________________________________________________________________  
When you hurt under the surface, like troubled water running cold  
Well time can heal, but this won’t…  
________________________________________________________________________

Her survival instinct on Earth is unlike anything she’s ever known, because for the last year of her life she’d been planning her death, but on Earth survival is everything. Only, Clarke Griffin is surviving for herself, she’s surviving because people need her. She’s surviving because her actions could have killed Finn and Bellamy and she can’t live with that on her shoulders, she’s surviving because there’s forty-eight of the original hundred in this facility with her but Finn Collins, Bellamy and Octavia Blake are not among them. She’s surviving because she has to make it back out, she can’t go back into solitary confinement and she can’t let her life be in someone else’s hands, not again. 

The first time she sliced her wrist in Mount Weather it was an accident, she woke up in the starch white room with a heart monitor and I.V. attached to her. She woke up to the steady beeping of her heart but all she could see was the white walls of that cell and she just reacted. And once she was stitched up and sitting in front of Dante Wallace she didn’t regret it, because he refused to let her leave, she even wishes she had dug a little deeper. From there everything she does is to escape Mount Weather, every person she talks to is to gather information, everywhere she goes she’s looking for possible exits and vents and oddly placed doorways. Jasper tries to tell her she’s overreacting and to just take it easy for once and Clarke wants to tell him so much more than her simple “I can’t.”, but she can’t and so she doesn’t. 

The second time she slices up her wrist it’s intentional. It’s intentional and it’s deeper than she anticipated and her plan was just to get into the medical bay because she knows there’s something hiding there, but she somehow ends up letting the blood pool at her feet and doesn’t move until she’s dizzy. A guard finds her in the hallway and he’s completely sincere when he asks her if she’s okay and she’s completely honest when she says that she’s not. He helps her get to the medical bay and sits her on the edge of a pristine white bed and there are spots in her vision. Someone is asking her how this happened and Clarke is unguarded so she confesses. 

“You did this to yourself?” Clarke is lying down on her back and she doesn’t know who was cleaning her arm and re-stitching it, but someone is and someone is concerned, or confused. 

“I always thought if I killed myself it would be suffocation.” 

“Have you thought of killing yourself Miss. Griffin?” She can recognize the voice now, of the woman who seems to be their lead physician. 

Clarke looks into the white lights hanging above her, all the time, but she doesn’t say it out loud, in fact she doesn’t respond at all. She just keeps staring at the light above her and she knows that per protocol Dante Wallace will have to be notified that Clarke Griffin is in the medical bay for a self-inflicted injury. She knows that he’d never accept that, he called her a sun, a star that attracted life and part of her felt that he was being sincere. Part of her felt like she could have bonded with Dante over his art collection and maybe if she hadn’t killed her friends she could have enjoyed what Mount Weather had to offer. She thinks of all the reasons why she’s so undeserving of a happy and easy life and then she finds where the Grounders are kept and she finds Anya and everything changes. 

The next time she’s returned to Mount Weather she’s colder and harder. She’s a warrior and she’s ready to free her people and she’s ready to find Bellamy because she needs him. She never should have sent him, it should have been her, it should have been her, it should have been her. She doesn’t think she could live if he’s not okay; she thinks that somehow him being alive and on this planet with her was enough for the voices in her head to stop reminding her of her plans. Only when she finds him, he’s not okay, not really and she has to live with the guilt that not only did she do that, but she made him pull that lever with her. 

She doesn’t return to camp with them. She wants to wrap her arms around Bellamy and beg his forgiveness, she wants to cling to him and let his voice soothe her to sleep and then she wants him there with her when her nightmares wake her up. She’s so fucking selfish, so she goes her separate way from the survivors and ignores the way that his eyes burn into her back and keeps walking. She’s surviving, but she’s not really alive and it’s not fair to make Bellamy Blake carry her dead weight.  
__________________________________________________________  
So, before you go…  
Was there something I could have said to make your heart beat better?  
If only I’d have known you had a storm to weather…  
___________________________________________________________

Life on the new planet feels familiar, if not a little distant to Clarke. Reminds her of her time on Earth when it was just her and Madi, except this time it’s mostly just her. She had taken up to spending her days in the start of the new medical bay with Jordan. They talk easily and she sees some of Monty and some of Harper in him and it’s nice. She likes her time with Jordan and he’s so smart and he’s so caring and earnest when he talks of hope. She’s drawn to his light. She hopes that he and Madi can become friends and that Madi can draw upon his light when the time comes. 

The time will come, she reminds herself, because there’s a voice in her head that reminds her of everything she’s done wrong and keeps her awake with the fear that there’s someone else inside her mind and that Josephine isn’t really gone, keeps her on edge. She’s desperately trying to process it all, weeks after the fact, but all she can think to her remind herself is that the time will come. For now though, she’ll focus on her inventory and treating those that walk through the door. Even though it takes her all night and she skips dinner (Bellamy is kind enough to bring her something to eat, he’s cautious around her which hurts, but it’s for the better). She goes home to another restless night and at dawn makes her way back over to the tent. 

On one particularly chilly morning Clarke makes her way into the medical bay only to find Jordan already there, he’s taking stock of their homemade bandages, so she approaches him softly, “I took inventory yesterday… everything okay?” she says. 

He doesn’t meet her eyes when he turns to face her so she asks if something’s wrong, if something happened and his reply is short and distant, “No, nothing like that, but uh, Raven and Echo don’t think you should be doing inventory anymore and they want me to double check your numbers.” 

She blinks a couple of times, she tries to think of an argument, she tries to take a stand or to convince herself to walk out of the medical bay and over to their hut and to knock them both out, but instead all that comes out is a meager; “Oh, well they have their reasons.” 

“Yeah, but their reasons are stupid!” Jordan expresses his frustration by slamming his hands down on to the metal counter beneath him. “It’s like they can’t get their heads out of their asses long enough to see that they’re just making decisions to make them! It’s like they forget that you taught me everything I know, you and your…” Clarke has reached for his shoulder by now and nods softly at him, “…your mom, you guys taught me what I know.” 

Clarke feels for him, she does, because she’s been there but there’s nothing she can do. She’s done enough and she deserves this form of punishment and she knows she can take it. Instead of trying to explain that to this young man who wants so desperately for things to be alright she simply accepts it and moves on; “Now it’s time for you to take charge, it’s an honor to have your camp leaders put their faith in you like this.” 

From there Clarke isn’t sure how to proceed. Both Echo and Raven had made it known that they don’t value her opinion or experience as a medic and she respects that. She does. She can’t respect that they dismiss her need to help while she’s still around. She can’t respect that they’ve taken Madi under their wings and have all but dismissed everything Clarke is good for. She can’t respect that Echo is overly affectionate with Bellamy in front of his former co-leader, only to dismiss him at other random points of the day. She can’t respect that Raven is cruel to Octavia until Clarke is in the room, and then Raven is extending false hopes of friendship and forgiveness. She can’t respect the leaders of this camp, because they’re self appointed and not one of them had to sacrifice themselves for their people and yet they act like they’ve lost everything. 

There’s not much about these comrades that Clarke can respect, but she can respect that they don’t trust her. After all, she barely trusts herself anymore.  
_________________________________________________________________  
So, before you go…  
Was there something I could have said to make it all stop hurting?  
It kills me that your mind could make you feel so worthless…  
_________________________________________________________________

Her self preservation is shit. She gives away rations, blankets and exerts energy she really doesn’t have to keep the hundred kids around her alive. She insisted on helping John Murphy, even though he was a pathetic excuse for a human being, he was still a human being and Clarke figured if she couldn’t save Charlotte or Wells she could at least save him. So she nurses him and takes care of him and has absolute no regard to her own health. So when she’s waking up in the makeshift hammock covered in sweat and blood and lord only knows what else, she’s shocked. She’s shocked because they lost five people to the biological warfare planted on Murphy, but not one of them is Clarke. Then again, none of them are Raven, Finn, Bellamy or Octavia either. Clarke thinks she can live with that. 

She tries to offer herself up instead of Finn, but it wasn’t enough. How could eighteen lives be more important than the three-hundred lives she took? How is that justice? She never gets the answer to her questions; instead she gets a blade pressed into her hand and the fervent desperation of Raven; “Take this blade and kill Lexa.” Clarke wants to, she does, but doing so would mean death for everyone and Clarke told herself she wasn’t going to allow her death to fall into someone else’s hands. In the end, she takes that blade and kills Finn and earns the trust and respect of Lexa in return for the disdain and hatred of Raven. Sometimes Clarke thinks she chose Lexa because it was validation for her self-loathing and hatred; someone saw her strength and fed into it. She liked to think that she had a place and a mission and for a short while the voice that likes to list her sins to her at night is silent. Only long enough for Clarke to witness her partners’ death and then the voice is back. 

She still tries though, god does she try. She tries to save her loved ones lives time and time again, but she’s always made out to be the bad guy and it’s exhausting. So when the decision to test nightblood comes up and she’s volunteering she’s hopeful that it would show her friends that she’s trying to help them! She hopes that this time her sacrifice will work. It doesn’t, she lives –she suffers for it too, but she lives and the resentment is palpable in the room. Clarke wishes it had killed her like it was predicted to. Clarke wishes that she’d just killed herself when she had the chance, before she had come to rely on these people and love them so wholeheartedly. Instead she continues to put her neck on the line, and she’s left behind because of it. 

For the first few months she is devastated, because she misses her people. She misses Bellamy. She records herself on this radio every single day in hopes that someone will hear her and pick up, but they don’t. After that, she’s grown used to the solitude (like solitary confinement, but not) and there’s peace in the world around her. The year mark passes and she’s done the bare minimum to stay alive, she’s fallen and not gotten back up too content to just lie in the radioactive dirt for hours. She’s sprained joints and definitely broken a bone or two, but she does nothing to fix them or manage the pain. She figures that by the end of year two she’s done her best and can finally put herself to rest, that’s what the voice says to her as she holds the gun to her temple. Life decides in that moment to introduce her to Madi and suddenly she’s found something worth living for again. 

Madi soon becomes her everything, her reason for existing and for pushing forward. She finds joy in life again with this brave little girl next to her. There’s a new voice in her head and it’s telling her things are good and that she was good, a good mom and friend. She’s reunited with her people after six years, only everything is different and suddenly Clarke is in an impossible position. Madi’s life is worth so much more than her own and she so begs and pleads the one human being she has always, always loved more than life itself to just let her go. Take Madi and leave me! She pleads and tries and twists against the restraints and in the end it’s not enough and she’s let Madi down. Her response is extreme and desperate and full of hatred, but Clarke does it anyway. She leaves Bellamy to die and it kills her, but he put that flame into Madi and it’s just not fair! 

When Echo wraps her hands around Clarke’s neck, her fist instinct is to fight, but her fight is weak and she’s tired and she just wants Echo to kill her. She wants to die, she’s pleading for it with her eyes, because Echo killing her is just so god damn fitting. It feels different from when Bellamy had her on the ground as he crushed her throat. It feels more justified, because Echo is his chosen partner now, Echo is his right hand, Echo is his everything and if Clarke was going to be nothing to him than it only makes sense that his everything eliminates her. She thinks that maybe the reason she was never successful in ending her existence is because Echo was meant for it. This is her chance to remove Bellamy’s nightmare, allow him to live… and Clarke knows that Madi would be in good hands. 

She can breathe again, but the ringing in her ears never quite goes away.  
_______________________________________________  
So, before you go…  
_______________________________________________

“We didn’t ask on what you would do Griffin.” Echo is seated at the round table in the middle of the drop-ship and her arms are crossed over her chest. She’s fuming and Clarke didn’t mean to increase the tension of the room. She had been invited to this meeting by Madi after she had declined the invite from Emori. She had great cause now that she’s facing Echo’s fury, “It seems that every time you’re here you want to make decisions that are out of your domain Clarke.” 

Clarke closes her eyes and counts to five, “Then why was I invited?” 

The air in the room changes and everyone –except Raven and Echo of course, become unsettled in their seats. Madi looks over at Clarke, the circles under her eyes are deeper and darker than they were just days before. She’s skinnier and paler and it worries her, because this is not the Clarke she knows and loves. Clarke is sick and everyone in the room can see and feel it, everyone except Clarke herself. Of course, when Bellamy made the suggestion that they relieve some of the stress from Clarke’s life, Madi was in total agreement! The hardest part was getting Clarke to see it that way. 

“We think it’s time for you to step down as a camp leader Clarke.” 

That was not how Madi wanted to go about it, she had wanted herself or Bellamy to speak, not Raven who made even the best intentions sound downright mean. “Raven means that we’ve seen how stressed out you are and we want you to enjoy the peace that we’ve worked so hard to gain!” 

Bellamy follows Madi’s short, albeit sincere, explanation; “We think that the best thing for you is to distance yourself from our everyday meetings on mundane decisions. No reason the Commander of Death should have to sit in on a debate on crop rotation.” 

He means it as a joke, Clark tells herself that several times over, but he said it and Bellamy Blake only says what he thinks is true. He regards her as the Commander of Death. He thinks she’s only good for making life or death decisions, on deciding who lives and dies and that hurts. She looks around the room and sees that everyone has already come to an agreement, she was really only told as a formality. They don’t want you anymore, the voice sings out in her head, they don’t need you anymore; it’s time to move on. 

“Look, Clarke, we appreciate everything you’ve done for us,” Diyoza starts off softly, like she’s talking to a trapped animal, and Raven snorts from across the table and so Diyoza repeats it again with more force, “… however you have to take care of yourself and worrying about what we’re doing in here isn’t going to help you.” 

“No, no, I get it really; you guys don’t have to explain this decision to me.” Clarke smiles softly, but it’s not sincere and for a second Bellamy wants to take the words back, but he’s looking at Clarke and it hurts. “If you need me, you know where to find me.” 

Madi feels Clarke run her hands through her hair once before she’s turned away and is walking out of the drop-ship. She feels heavier than she did moments ago and she wonders if she had made the right decision. As she looks over at Bellamy she sees the same question running through his eyes, but the rest of the table has already moved on to the next point of discussion. They’re talking –arguing, over when to start expeditions of the land around them and Clarke had originally suggested that they start small and then work their way up to full exploration. Everyone fought on it, there wasn’t a need to be cautious, there wasn’t a need to hold back, but there was and at the end of the meeting it was Echo that made the same exact suggestion and it was Echo who was given praise and adoration from the rest of the table as if she was actually a leader who instinctively knew what was best for her people. 

John Murphy left the table feeling sick with anger. While he didn’t disagree that Clarke was not right, his suggestion had been to offer more to her than what’s been offered. She deserved more than just strategic talk, cold shoulders and belittling comments. She deserved more than a tent on the edge of camp. She deserved more than Bellamy and his roundabout way of making sure she was alright and she deserved more than being tossed to the side like it wasn’t the hardest fucking decision to come to at that table.  
_________________________________________________________________  
Was never the right time, whenever you called…  
Went little by little by little until there was nothing at all.  
_____________________________________________________________

She begins to walk the path on her own throughout the day; because it’s not like anyone at camp is going to be missing her. She brings writing material with her so she can catalog her findings. She find plants that have very similar properties to those on Earth and she figures she may as well collect some and practice making different mixtures, but the plant in particular she is hoping to find is something similar to the Valerian plant from earth. Granted, the Valerian she had stumbled upon on Earth was twice as potent and left some horrible side effects after use, nothing like the plant they were taught about years and years ago in Earth Studies. Still, she’s hopeful she’ll find something close. 

She finds a plant with similar physical properties on day three of her solo exploration trips. She finds a smaller section of plant to de-root and then tucks it safely into her bag. It’s still early in the day and she’s not required to be anywhere (read; not wanted anywhere) in camp so she keeps hiking. When she finds the hot spring or pond, whatever this exceptionally spacious body of still water is, she’s ecstatic. Her own secret haven, her own space and the tranquility and peace that surrounds her as she wades in just a little bit to test it makes it easier to breathe. Nothing attacks her and the water is definitely warmer than average, so she assumes it must be some kind of natural hot spring. The water is crystal clear and she can see her reflection staring back. She ignores the mess of a girl in the glassy sheen of the water and makes her back to her pack and belongings. 

On the tenth day of her adventures she falls down a steep slope. Two days later her hands are still scabbed over and her knee is bruised and swollen, but she tells no one about the accident. She also keeps the fact that she laid on the cold ground until after sunset simply because the effort it would have taken her to move was overwhelmingly soul crushing to herself. Everything was exhausting. It physically hurt to get out of bed most mornings and her limbs felt awkward and heavier than normal. She had essentially stopped eating; only picking at small portions of vegetables whenever someone made a comment. She hadn’t truly washed her hair or her body in days either; rather she just compulsively washes at her clothes, until her fingers are raw. Light and sound are her mortal enemies at this point, everything causes headaches and the dizziness is unbearable. If she ate, she immediately was ill afterward. If she slept, she would sleep for long hours and wake up disoriented and cloudy. Night terrors wake her up most nights and she’d lie in her sweat with tremors that caused her body to tense up.  
___________________________________________________________________  
Our every moment, I start to replay…  
But all I can think about is seeing that look on your face.  
___________________________________________________________________

Clarke doesn’t realize it, but John Murphy had taken it upon himself to make sure that she received her meals each day –even though she rarely joined them in the mess hall. Still, he leaves plates at her tent each day, three times a day, and on the days when the food goes cold and uneaten he feels a surge of unease. On the days when the plates are partially cleared he feels his chest loosen. On the days when the food is all gone he feels a smile spread on his face. Nobody else in the camp seems to really notice that Clarke has pretty much shut down and by nobody he means Bellamy. Bellamy Blake had at one point assigned Murphy to watching after Clarke; “Make sure she stays alive.” 

Those words had been whispered into his ear with such emotion that the young and stupid Murphy intentionally wants to drop them. Now though? Years and years later, he’d realize that order was the only one that ever truly matters. His normally sour disposition around camp hasn’t changed, but he’s taken to being a downright asshole when it comes to the eldest Blake sibling. He brushes Clarke aside like she’s nothing now and god damnit if she doesn’t just accept it! He won’t talk to Octavia either, not really, but they’re making some progress so Murphy figures he can let that one slide for now. So when Murphy is walking through camp with the extra plate and he shoulders past Bellamy a little too roughly and their leader calls him out on it Murphy can’t think of any other response; “Yeah, fuck you Blake.” 

Things begin to spiral from there, because now people are aware of the hostility between the two men. People are questioning it and Murphy thinks that this could be his chance to finally do his job, to make sure that Clarke stays alive, but it’s trumped by the glorious Blake sibling fight in the middle of the field that same day. Echo went at Octavia over her inappropriate response to Murphy’s childlike antics earlier that day, Octavia responded in typical Octavia fashion and told Echo to adhere to Murphy’s previous comment and then Bellamy got involved. “Octavia, that was out of line!” 

“That was out of line?” Octavia gasped out, “You don’t get to tell me what’s out of line anymore Bellamy, not since you decided I’m not worth your time.” 

Bellamy, bless him, shares a brief look of pain and distress before he masks it back up, but her statement was thrown out there and now the crowd of general camp members have paused in their daily routine. “You’re always going to be worth my time O…” 

“Spare me your bullshit Bellamy…” Octavia spits out, “…I’ve been reminded of my place in your family tree since the day we woke up. You haven’t spoken to me in weeks; you won’t even make eye contact with me! You decided that your actual family, your actual blood isn’t worth your time because you have this new precious family that you have to protect. Do you know that the last time either of us had an actual conversation was before Praimfaya? No, of course not, because you’re so busy playing happy wife happy life with that hypocritical bitch that you don’t even see your sister has been ostracized from camp!”

“That’s not true! O all I’ve wanted to do since we’ve settled here is fix things between us, but…” 

Octavia just cuts him off with a short laugh; “There is no but Bellamy, the fact is that you didn’t. You didn’t fix things, you chose to leave things as they are and you chose to put Echo and Raven and everyone else above me. By the way Bell, have you seen Clarke?” 

Bellamy runs a hand through his hair and groans out in frustration; “What the fuck does Clarke have to do with any of this?” 

“She was your family too. You told her that, you told me that… she sacrificed everything for you! She’s made the same mistakes that your precious people have made and yet here we are. You’re pathetic and the only hard decisions you know how to make are the wrong ones. I love you Bellamy, I love you because you are my brother and you’re always going to be my big brother. I love you because you were my hero when we were kids; you were my protector when we landed on Earth. I know I’ve made mistakes and it sucks that I have to live with those mistakes and the biggest one is that I hurt people I care about, but do you know the difference between you and I?” She pauses just to see if he’ll respond, but all can do is stare at her with those wide and hurt eyes and so she continues. 

“The difference is that I’ve had to live with those mistakes on my own, you have your little circle that can pat you on the back and reassure you that you’ve made the right choice and then there’s me with nobody except Clarke. Even that’s like talking to a fucking wall, at least I’ve been pardoned for my mistakes, but god forbid we offer the same thing to the woman who has single-handedly saved our asses multiple times. So you don’t get to tell me you’ve tried, you don’t get to reprimand me because I told Echo to fuck off. You don’t get to play diplomat and leader knowing that there are people in this camp that are suffering. You don’t get to stand here and act as if you’re innocent here! You could have sought me out. You could have smiled in my general fucking direction every once in a while. You could have told Raven to rip her head out of her own ass when she started giving cabin assignments out like she all of a sudden deserved the right to tell people where to live, which by the way, as if it wasn’t obvious enough that Clarke and I aren’t welcome here having us secluded on the very distant edge of camp is pathetic. You could have done any of that, but you didn’t Bell and that’s not on me, that’s on you. So please, spare me your excuses and your self-righteous attitude and the next time someone offends your girlfriend, let her handle it, after all, I’m sure you know that she’s more than fucking capable.” 

Bellamy tried to get his sister to stop from turning around, but the only thing that actually came out of his mouth was a pathetic whimper. Surrounding him are Rave and Echo, Indra and Dizoya of course and Emori is there. Emori is the first person to reach out to Bellamy, but he shrugs her away with a stiff grunt and it’s in that moment that Raven notices Murphy with another plate of food trying to sneak away; “Where the fuck are you taking that Murphy? You know we don’t give out additional rations.” 

Murphy ignores her, because Murphy has to count to ten and cool himself off, because Murphy is riled from this whole situation and he knows that if he blurts out what he fears and sees in Clarke and in Octavia (though much less of the latter now) he knows the situation is only going to get worse. Instead, he pauses in his step, closes his eyes and takes two deep breaths –just like Emori taught him, and he turns to face the other members of the council; “Well since we’re calling everyone out on their bullshit today, Clarke hasn’t been coming to the mess hall for at least a week now, so I’ve taken it upon myself to make sure she gets her share of rations.” 

Raven scoffs and shakes her head; “Clarke is a capable adult, if she doesn’t want to come to the mess hall that’s her choice Murphy, if I catch you doing it again I’ll…” 

Murphy cuts her off with a snort through his nose and opens his arms, it’s a challenge and he knows he can win, but he can’t help but take the bait of her condescending tone; “You’ll what? What can you do Raven? Because, from where I stand, you can’t do much of anything except remind people that they’re beneath you. By the way, I’ll be taking plates to Clarke as long as it takes for me to get her to out of her fucking tent.” 

“She has a cabin Murphy.” 

“No, Madi has a cabin,” Raven blinks at Murphy and he smirks, “… you may want to watch for holes up there on your high horse, wouldn’t want you to fall and break your neck.” 

As Murphy walks away Bellamy scans the camp, there’s no bright blonde in the crowd and it doesn’t feel right that she’s not there in that moment. The hand on his arm (Echo’s hand on his arm) feels welcoming and warm, but it’s not hers and that makes Bellamy hyper aware of his surroundings. He’s pulled from his head when he hears Raven cruse out Murphy and she looks like she’s about to follow him and nobody is planning on stopping her, except him, because Octavia was right. He should have told Raven to pull her head out of her own ass a while ago. “Raven stop! Let him go, it’s not hurting anyone that he’s dropping food off for Clarke.” 

“Really Bellamy? We established rules for a reason, what if he’s lying?” 

“Watch it Reyes, that’s my man you’re accusing.” 

Raven ignores Emori and crosses her arms over her chest, the tell-tale sign that she’s ready to fight; “What if he’s lying Bellamy? Who’s to say that Clarke hasn’t been in the mess hall? Maybe she goes in after the rushes and the crowds?” 

Bellamy bites out in reply, “Yeah? And what if he’s not?” 

Nobody fills in the blanks to that response, Raven suddenly looks defeated, although she’s still fired up and Echo looks over at him and he sees all the questions swirling in her eyes but he chooses to ignore them. Nobody says anything for a long while but the buzz of the camp resuming their day and their work filters between each of them. Nobody notices that Octavia has joined Murphy, but Bellamy notices the smile on her face and the way she laughs and he can’t remember the last time he heard his sister laugh. Nobody questions him when he pulls away from the group and disappears for the afternoon.  
_________________________________________________________________________  
When you hurt under the surface, like troubled water running cold…  
Well, some can heal, but this won’t…  
___________________________________________________________________

Clarke finds that seclusion within the camp is dangerous. Realistically she’s aware that if she just told someone about the issue it would have to be addressed. Someone would have to care, even just a little bit, about the rough hands that grab at her and the leering smile that follows her body whenever she’s in the med bay –as rare as that would appear. The voice in her mind convinces her otherwise and tells her that whatever is happening isn’t worth disrupting the peace that has followed Octavia’s blowout. Whatever happens to her is not important, it never was and it’s only going to delay her inevitable fate. Still her hands shake whenever she sees him and she feels the bubble of panic build in the pit of her stomach when their eyes meet. She’s not sure if the raw fear is because he’s explicitly told her what he intends to do to her or if it’s because she convinced herself that letting him do the work would make it easier on everyone. 

Unfortunately, Clarke isn’t much of a pushover and a few rough grabs and shoves are enough to ignite some kind of fire within her. She tells him to knock it off and he laughs, he laughs because she’s so little in body and spirit. He laughs because she is nothing to nobody, but she could be something to him. She’s disgusted that this man wanders the same camp as her daughter, as Octavia and Emori, as Raven and Echo. He likes to follow her out of camp sometimes and sometimes she does it intentionally –like when he’s staring at the girls training in the open field and she’ll notice so she’ll intentionally walk by him and on to her trail. She never leads him to her hot spring, because she’s the only one that gets to taint that space. Still, on the days when she knows he’s just behind the tree to her left she wishes that he’d just get it over with. 

There was one night she woke up to his left hand over her mouth and his other forcing its way into her pants and he’s telling her how she’s asked for it for too long and she feels the tears build up in her eyes before suddenly she’s biting into his hand. He yelps and pulls back but not before he smacks her across the face and then he’s gone and cursing on his way out and she’s crying and her chest is heaving but she can’t breathe. She can’t breathe and she feels his hands on her still and why is this happening to her? Are her sins really that great? Can’t she be forgiven without this humiliation? 

You deserve this; she hears it ring in her head over and over again. Her body moves on its own and she’s trembling as she rushes through the dark camp until she realizes she’s in front of Bellamy’s cabin, she’s knocking before she can control herself, but she’s quickly brought back to the present when Echo appears in the doorway wearing one of Bellamy’s bland tee shirts but it makes her look radiant. “I’m so sorry…” 

Echo is not sure how to proceed, she’s never seen Clarke in such a disheveled state and instinctively she wants to know what happened and how she can fix it, but then she realizes that Clarke is staring and Echo feels heat rise to her cheeks; “Clarke, what can I do for you?” 

“Uh… I’m sorry, I was looking for Bellamy.” 

“He’s asleep, what do you need?” Echo is embarrassed to be standing her doorway scantily clad and her tone is clipped, but really she’s just uncomfortable. Her gut tells her she should usher Clarke in and wake Bellamy up, but her pride leaves her blocking the doorway so that Clarke’s sky blue eyes can’t see into their space. Then Echo notices that Clarke isn’t looking anywhere but at the ground, “Clarke? Are you okay?” 

Clarke jerks her head up and tries to smile, it looks painful and forced, but Echo says nothing; “Yeah, I’m so sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking. Forget about it, I’m sorry again Echo.” 

“Clarke, if something’s wrong I can go wake Bellamy up.” Clarke almost believes the sincerity of her voice and the concern in her eyes, but then she remembers how easy it was for Echo to kill her and she knows that Echo is not her friend. So instead she reassures the fierce warrior in front of her in her best friends’ tee shirt –no he’s not her best friend anymore, he’s not her anything anymore and maybe that’s why it pinches her heart to see Echo so relaxed in his space. 

The next morning Echo is standing in the med-bay with the intent of talking to Clarke, because something just isn’t right about the previous night and it’s eating at her, but she can’t go to Bellamy until she’s positive he needs to intervene. Her and a nameless man from around camp (he has a name, but she doesn’t care enough to know it) arrive at the same time and she notices his hand is wrapped and upon inquisition he tells her that he was a klutz and cut it late last night. She nods and ushers him over to Clarke’s station. Echo doesn’t like him, doesn’t trust him, she’s caught him staring the women around camp and it makes her blood boil, but he’s useful around camp –at least from what she’s observed of him. She wants to question him further, because her instincts are telling her something isn’t right, but Clarke is walking into the room and then she’s dropping whatever it was she was holding and is walking back out. 

“Clarke!” 

“I’m sorry,” Clarke has her hands pressed to her face and Echo notices a bruise that she hadn’t noticed the night before, “I can’t treat him Echo.” 

Echo is stunned, “What do you mean you can’t treat him?” 

Clarke drops her hands, but her head is still tilted back towards the ceiling; “I can’t treat him Echo, Jordan is going to have to do it.” 

Somewhere in Echo’s mind she knows that this should be a red flag, but all she can see is a woman in front of her denying doing her job and it sends a spark of anger through her core. “It’s your job Clarke, why can’t you do your job?” 

“I just can’t! I can’t and I’m sorry!” 

“That’s not good enough Clarke! I mean Jesus; we have limited your work as much as fucking possible and you can’t even look at a man’s bloody hand? What good are you?” Echo regrets the words as they leave her mouth, because the fire is out of Clarke’s eyes and her stance is very different from the woman she’s grown to know. 

“I’m no good, you’re right.” Clarke is making her way towards the exit and is ignoring the way that Echo is calling out, she’s ignoring everything as she makes her back to her tent, she’s exhausted and she aches and she just wants to sleep. She uses a padlock from the inside to make sure her tent flap can’t be opened from the outside. 

Echo stands in the entrance of the med bay with her mouth agape as she watches Clarke practically run through camp to her little tent in the distance. Clarke runs right past Raven, collides with her more like, but it’s like Clarke can’t even tell and even Raven is left staring in wonder before she turns to Echo and raises the question that everyone has avoided until now. “What’s up with Clarke?” 

Echo shakes her head; “I don’t know she just freaked.” 

“Weird, she doesn’t normally lose her cool like that.” Raven looks back over at Echo and notices her friends calculating look. “You ok?” 

“I think I’m going to send Bellamy to talk to her, something’s not right.” 

Raven shrugged; “Whatever you want to do.” 

Except, neither of them factored in the storm that ripped through their camp later that day and nobody expected that the damage would take almost three whole days to repair. By the time everything was done Echo had forgotten about Clarke (lie, she knew, but Bellamy was soft and loving on top of her and she couldn’t fathom sending him to play the other woman’s knight in shining armor) and life resumed undisturbed. Nobody knew what Clarke was up to. She hadn’t been in the med bay since, not even after the storm when she was actually needed and that only irritated their male leader. If only Echo knew him well enough to know that is irritation was the forefront of his concern. 

Clarke can’t hold on for much longer.  
___________________________________________________  
So, before you go…  
Was there something I could have said to make your heart beat better?  
If only I’d have known you had a storm to weather…  
__________________________________________________________

People are settling alright, the existing settlement that had caused all of their initial stress and worry had helped them considerably now that they’re in peace. Adjustments had been made around camp to solidify their growth and permanent residency. It appeared as if the peace that everyone had fought so hard for was finally, finally, attained and it made it easier for Clarke to breathe. Knowing that her people, well those who used to be her people anyway, will make it after she’s gone makes it easier for her to pass along her possessions. She considers it a last move at peace between them, she considers it her final parting gifts, and she considers it her last attempt at friendship. 

Clarke starts with spare necessities. Extra blankets go to the younger and older of their population and she’ll do that anonymously on their doorstep. Spare clothing she’ll leave for Emori, because out of all the girls that lived on Earth before the Ring she was always the one that was willing to give the shirt off of her back. Weapons she’s opted to leave for Madi, the hand gun that has the names of all her loved ones will have to be updated before she passes it down, but Clarke figures it shouldn’t take too much time. Madi is tricky though and Clarke knows she’s going to have to be deceptive in placing the gun somewhere in her cabin after one of their visits. She goes through some other miniscule items; her pillows, bedding, storage containers, shoes… all of it gets sorted into piles and she vows that the next day she’s going to start distributing the belongings properly. 

And she does. And it takes her all of a day to get rid of almost all of her worthless possessions and the only items that remain are the gun, Madi and her sketchbooks. Clarke realizes she probably shouldn’t consider Madi a belonging, but she can’t help it and she has to ensure that Madi will be well cared for and kept safe when she’s gone. There’s a twinge of pain that comes with writing the letter in the middle of the first of the sketchbooks, she knows who she wants to have them. She knows it’ll eat at him, but he has the others and she trusts nobody else to hold on to her drawings. 

She knocks two birds out with one stone the following morning. She hasn’t been to the mess hall in two weeks, maybe more, and while she’s appreciative to whoever was placing the spare meals outside of her tent she knew she had to start to make her rounds. The surprised faces of her former friends’ leaves her smiling a little bit, they were unmasked in that moment and Clarke envisioned those expressions to flash through her mind when the time would come. She doesn’t feel comfortable enough to sit at their table and they don’t offer, but Murphy moved so that he’s directly across from her and Emori is next to her and then Madi is there and she thinks that it’s enough. 

The meal is pleasant, she doesn’t eat much, but Murphy doesn’t miss it and insists she finishes the protein portion of her meal. “I didn’t know you cared so much.” She quips and it’s playful, but there’s a part of her that is hoping and praying he catches the desperation to hear that someone cares in the catch of her voice. 

“Someone has to,” he starts and she thinks maybe that could be enough, “this is a far better option than just leaving plates of food at your tent.” 

She’s stunned for just a moment. “That was you?” 

He shrugs innocently; “Don’t make a big deal out of it, cockroaches look out for other cockroaches.” 

Then she’s pulled to Emori who had just thanked her for the extra clothing and inquiring how Clarke knew she needed some new shirts and pants. Clarke chuckles and makes a remark on spring cleaning, even though they all know they’re entering the winter season. In the same conversation Clarke ensures that Madi will be around later that afternoon and their visit is planned. She excuses herself from the table when she notices Raven is walking out; “Sorry guys, I have to talk to Raven about something.” 

She doesn’t stay long enough for anyone to question her, instead she’s speed walking and tapping at Raven’s shoulder and once her ally turns around Clarke is almost stunned to silence. She remembers the laughter they shared, before things had gotten so dark and she remembers how they could be on the same page without even trying. She’s snapped out of it when Raven asks Clarke again what she needs, but it’s not in the same cold dismissive demeanor that Clarke was used to. “I just needed to make sure that Madi was well cared for.” 

Raven looks at her like she has three heads; “Of course she is, you see to that and Bellamy and myself and Murphy… are you ok?” 

“Yeah, I’m great!” Clarke thinks she sounds a little too enthusiastic and has to take a deep breath. “Sorry, I know it’s kind of a weird request, but when I said that I needed to make sure Madi was well cared for I was hoping that you’d be the one to step in.” 

“Ok…” Raven has a gut feeling that’s telling her to press for more, but she smothers it down. “Yeah, I’ll make sure Madi is taken care of. Isn’t this kind of a weird conversation to be having?” 

Clarke shrugged easily, a weight off of her chest, “A mother can never be too prepared for the safety of her child.” Raven nods and then is thrown back as Clarke hugs her tight. It’s been so long since Clarke and Raven have touched that the brunette is taken aback by the emotions it’s stirred within her, but before she can wrap her arms and hold on to her once upon a time friend, Clarke is pulling back. “Thank you; do you know where Bellamy is?” 

Raven points her in the direction of his and Echo’s cabin, he should be alone since Echo takes over the morning routine now, but Raven can’t make any promises. Clarke assures her that its fine she just has to drop something off to him. Raven watches her walk away and she wishes that they’d been able to actually become friends. As it is, there’s too much between them and Raven knows that their opportunities have been swept away by war and apocalypses alike. Maybe in another life, Raven thinks, but then she thinks that a lot. 

Clarke knocks on the door and this time when Bellamy answers she can find a smile and he’s stunned. It’s been months since he’s seen Clarke let alone with a smile on her face and he’s reminded of times long ago on a planet that’s been destroyed. He ushers her in eagerly and already has words on his lips, he wants to hug her and hold her and tell her everything, but before he can get anything out in the open she’s holding leather bound books out towards him and she can clearly tell he’s confused. “I uh, did some exploring and mapped out some findings for you and the Council.” 

“Uh…” he’s taken aback, “… thanks. Clarke you and I really have to talk.” 

“It’s ok Bellamy,” it’s not, but he needs her reassurance right now and she can give him that, “consider this a peace offering.” 

He nods, “I still want to talk to you. There’s so much that’s been left unsaid and we…” he stops himself short and then grips the books a little harder, “why are there two?” 

“I just don’t have a use for both of them anymore and I figured if anyone could use them it would be you.” She wants to say more, she wants to open her heart and soul up to this man, but she knows she can’t. Bellamy Blake was never truly hers and she made sure of that time and time again. The least she could do is leave him something good to remember her by, something precious. She wanted him to have her drawings and sketches because she wanted him to understand just how much he meant to her. Plus, the maps will be useful, except she’s decided to leave out the watering hole. She gave that map to Octavia, from one misled human to another, besides if anyone is going to find her she wants it to be Octavia. Octavia will know what to do from there. 

“What aren’t you telling me Clarke?” 

She goes in for a hug instead of answering and she feels his arms wrap around her and suddenly the voice that’s been ringing in her head non-stop is quiet. They pull apart when the door opens and Echo is looking at them, she’s suspicious but Clarke is selfish. She gives Bellamy a quick kiss on the cheek and walks past the warrior turned lover without a backward glance and with little regret or regard to how it may have looked. She’d let Bellamy handle his woman, she had to spend some time with her daughter before she could call it a day.  
________________________________________________________________  
So, before you go…  
Was there something I could’ve said to make it all stop hurting?  
It kills me that your mind could make you feel so worthless…  
______________________________________________________________

The day Clarke sat along the bank of her hot spring she had a blossoming feeling of peace spread throughout her chest for the first time in… well since she was seventeen and in her solitary confinement. The voice had soothed her through the previous night, while she tossed and turned. She was excited, she was nervous, but most importantly she was free! She couldn’t stop smiling about it, in fact, she felt silly about it. If she wasn’t convinced she was crazy her excitement over her suicide certainly was a sure sign. Somewhere deep within her still tingled painfully when she realized that nobody had really noticed anything was wrong or sought her out.  
What would you have done? That demanding voice rang out through her mind, but it was a valid question. What would she have done? If Madi had stood before her and demanded to know what was wrong and figured out her planning, what would Clarke do? What if it was Raven or Murphy? What if it was Bellamy? She figured she could have dodged most of the others, explained there was nothing amiss and it wasn’t like they’d have known or cared enough about her to press the issue. Bellamy would have been an issue, well Bellamy of the past would have, and the Bellamy of today wouldn’t bother to find her. She kept the note tucked into the middle of her sketchbook that she used for mapping. He’d stumble upon it eventually, but just in case she also left a map for Octavia with a simpler message. It was Clarke’s hope that the other woman’s curiosity would be picked. 

Why do you want to be found? 

Are you having doubts? 

Isn’t this what you want? 

She wasn’t having doubts, she wasn’t! This is what she’s wanted all along, she wants to confront death and control it, she was the Commander of Death before and now she can use that title to take action. Clarke knows what it’s like to lose someone and have nothing to remember them by, no grave for Finn or her father or Wells or the hundreds of others that she’s lost. She thinks that maybe Madi deserves a grave to mourn over. She thinks that if she were really a decent mother she’d have more of a drive to live. She thinks she’s selfish and disgusting. She thinks none of her redeeming qualities outweighed the negative, but she couldn’t even think of one redeeming quality. The only reason she could give herself in that moment to live and press forward was Madi, but even then. Madi didn’t need her anymore and her spirited little girl would be fine without her. 

So Clarke continued to crush up her plants that she’s collected and tested, she mixed them into her water and she drank them in two gulps. She takes a couple deep breaths and strips out of her outer layer of clothing. She feels the tingle of her finger tips and toes and she knows that the sleeping effects of the plants will have a hold on her soon. She wades out into the hot spring so the water touches her hips and she drops her hands down, the world seems slanted almost and the colors are starting to fade and the sounds around her are muted. She stumbles and the splash that resonates in the air as her body hits the warm water echoes through her ears. Her eyes are open but all she sees are the rocks beneath her and she truly doesn’t know how to turn herself around to float. She feels like her limbs may be flailing around, she feels the instinct to fight her way to the surface kick in but she fights against it and forces her body lower and the little stream of air bubbles leave her lips. 

She closes her eyes. She sees her parents and Wells, she sees Finn and Lexa. She sees the faces of all the ones she lost in her life, Jasper and his goggles, Monty and his smile, Murphy and his determination, Raven and her spirit. She sees Madi and her smile, Madi and the way her eyes light up, Madi and her fierce loyalty and love and she feels a ripping pain in her chest. As she inhales and lets the water rush through her body and feels herself fade she sees Bellamy and his freckles, his deep eyes, his curly hair, his smile, his face as she walks away after Mount Weather, his hands when he’s rescuing her all those months later, his tears when she wakes up after Josephine and she hears his voice in her soul. She can feel how he says her name over and over again. She can feel the love and pain in his voice from all those years ago as he poured his soul out for her to see at that bunker and she remembers the exact moment she realized she loved him. She feels his arms around her, his hands running through her hair and she feels at peace. Even in death Bellamy Blake comforts Clarke in a way nothing else could and as her last bit of life slips away she realizes she’s happy that Bellamy is the last person she thought of.

She feels nothing immediately following that thought. It’s just empty and dark and her limbs are still and the sounds of the forest around her are mute and the water stops rippling and the sun is high, and there’s peace in the air.  
__________________________________________________________________  
Would we be better off by now, if I had let my walls come down?  
Maybe I’ll guess we’ll never know,  
You know… you know…  
________________________________________________________

They’re in the midst of another meeting; they’re in the middle of another argument because as it appears, nobody on this damn council can agree on anything. It’s draining on most days, but on restless days like that one, Bellamy Blake finds it especially hard to concentrate on what is going on around him. He’s spent the last two days looking for Clarke, trying to get a moment alone with her. She’s like a ghost around camp and it stirs something within his gut. He feels like he’s losing her all over again, not how he lost her when the world was ending or with Josephine. He has the same acidic taste in his mouth as he did over a century ago when they returned to the Ark camp with the remaining number of their people from Mount Weather. It makes him edgy and puts him in a dark mood. 

He’s snapped at Echo at least twice in the last twenty minutes, but he can’t find it in himself to feel bad about it. He knows she’s worried and he knows that she can’t show her emotions in the same way that he can, where he has a gentle hand she has a fist, when he takes a step back she’s surging forward. Their balance is one wrong move away from disaster and they dance around each other more often than not. She’s happy though and Bellamy is proud that he can make someone happy, even if it is just at the surface. He loves Echo, he does, but he finds that he’s rolling through the motions of life with her and he knows that every time he searches through the crowd before accepting her invitation to dinner breaks something else in her resolve. She keeps making these headstrong suggestions for camp and he knows, he knows, they’re the wrong decisions to make, but she just doesn’t listen. 

Neither does Raven, he thinks bitterly, but Raven is a whole new level of stubborn. She fights everyone for every decision discussed, she gets nasty and starts throwing everyone’s weaknesses in their face. It makes Bellamy sick to work with someone like that, but nobody else wants to bring forward the motion of removing her from the council. Instead, they removed Clarke… the same woman who has plagued his memory and thoughts since before their deep sleep. Bellamy and Raven haven’t been alright in a long time, her hostility towards the people he cares about the most is a wedge between the two of them. If only she could sit down and shut up long enough to observe her surroundings and see what’s been happening around her. If only she had the capability to just let shit go. Bellamy had to hold back a stiff laugh, because Raven Reyes didn’t let things go and that was what held their entire council back. 

The issue at hand is that the council can’t seem to decide which direction they want to go. Literally, they need to start exploring the area around them and nobody can seem to pick where or how to go from there. Raven thinks they should explore north, because the river would prevent them from getting lost. Echo wants to go west, because they already know what lies east –Bellamy shudders whenever he thinks of Sanctum. Murphy thinks they should just split it down the middle and send two groups, which Bellamy didn’t think was an awful idea. Then there’s Madi who is calm and resolute in her decision, Clarke is going and will lead the expeditions no matter which direction they go. Which only leads to more fighting and then Raven is insulting Clarke and Madi is insulting Raven and Echo is involved and Emori has to quiet them all with a loud shout while the other members of their council sit in frustration and silence. 

“Are you even paying attention Bellamy?” 

He looks up from the one sketchbook that holds all of Clarke’s explorations of the area, “Not really,” he shrugs easily as he continues to flip through the pages aimlessly, she’s explored in all directions as far as she could safely manage and he hadn’t even noticed she was gone. “Clarke has covered majority of the surrounding area.” 

“Right,” Raven grunts out and he can see the fight that’s brewing in her eyes, “she shouldn’t have taken it upon herself to start wandering around.” 

“Why not?” Madi immediately jumps at the agitation that’s laced in Raven’s statement, “Clarke should be able to go wherever she wants, and she isn’t a prisoner.” 

“Look Madi, I never said that she was, but Clarke was compromised literally two months ago. How can we know that she’s not having side effects of that? That she isn’t being targeted still? It’s not safe for her to just wander around in unknown territory without even telling us!” Everyone looks shocked at Raven’s words, including Raven herself, but it does deflate the fight out of Madi. “I’m sorry, maybe we should bench this topic for now…” 

“We can’t keep benching it!” Echo groaned out, she had been going stir crazy in their safe and secure little village, the unease of not knowing what was around them of not knowing who was around them ate at her. “We could be sitting ducks and we wouldn’t even know. What does Clarke’s findings include Bell? Maybe we should just pick up where she left off.” 

Bellamy, for the first time in two days, is finally intrigued enough in the conversation to start searching through her sketches and maps. That’s how he finds the letter; in the middle of the sketchbook she took two pages to hand write a letter and the following pages are all blank. The noise surrounding him drowns out as he reads the words quickly; Dear Bellamy…

I put this letter within these pages because I trusted that in time you’d want to read them, perhaps not at first, but in time. I trust no one else with these words, so I ask that you do the same, although I know it may be too much to ask. By the time you read this you’ve hopefully had time to mend and heal after what I’ve done, but this letter isn’t an apology. Instead this letter is an explanation, because at the least I know you deserve that. The truth is that living has been the most difficult decision I’ve ever had to make. Years ago, back when the Ark still orbited the Earth I had made a decision to take control of my destiny. They’ve called me the Commander of Death, but the only death I’ve ever wanted to control was my own and it appeared that no matter how hard I tried or didn’t try, I was to live on and suffer. Suffering is all I’ve ever truly been good at and as it goes, it’s the only thing I’ve ever been able to bring people. Unfortunately that still stands… my hope is that my death is easier to accept on this new planet. Please try to understand, your family doesn’t need me and the hostilities and tensions that I’ve inadvertently brought on to the camp can finally go away now! You deserve a life of peace and happiness. Bellamy Blake, you deserve a world that I’ve yet to taint. I want you know that you made my life the happiest it could have been and that the only regret I have is that you had to suffer the weight of my decisions. Make sure Madi pushes on and remember that the head and heart are one in the same. I want to say I love you, but those aren’t my words to say… 

He doesn’t realize he’s standing and staring at the pages before him until Echo is reaching for it, but he snaps it shut and back and looks around frantically; “Where is Clarke? Has anyone seen her?” 

It’s Murphy that catches on the quickest and he’s out of his seating mumbling curses as he storms out of the metal hall. Emori must catch on because she too rises and looks at Bellamy with a questioning eye; “I’ll go help Murphy, yeah?” 

Echo is still at his side and she’s gripping his arm and turning him; “Bellamy what is wrong?” 

He just gulps, he can’t quite catch his breath in that moment and everything is shaky around him, but he keeps seeing the words over and over in his head. Then Bellamy sees Madi and she’s looking up at him with wide eyed panic and he remembers the last time they had thought they lost Clarke. He can’t bring himself to put the young girl through that again so instead of answering the woman he’s supposed to trust and love and cherish he brushes past her and ignores the calls of his name. “Watch Madi, I have to go.” 

He practically runs into Octavia in his haste to get to Clarke’s tent to find a clue. He doesn’t realize he’s shaking until Octavia is ushering him to sit down in her newly built cabin. “I can’t sit O; I have to go find Clarke.” 

“Bellamy you need to listen to me!” Octavia keeps trying to shove a piece of paper in his face, but he keeps swatting it away, she’s determined though and when the breath is knocked out of him and he’s on his back on the ground he finally listens to his sister. “She gave me this map this morning. She told me I’d know what to do with it when the time was right and I didn’t get it, but it was the first time she had looked… I don’t know, the first time she’s looked like Clarke in ages.” 

He finally looks at the paper, a map that is almost identical to one of the drawings in the book she left him, but this time there’s something marked that isn’t on the original.  
There are words and doodles all throughout the paper as well, nothing consistent with the words she’s scribbled along the margins. Until you return to the ground- because out of it you were taken and for dust you are, and to dust you shall return… Bellamy sees that just below this statement is the same symbol on his paper for the forest. She’s marked another area of her map with the traditional grounders symbol for peace and underneath the symbol has written; just as man is appointed to die once, and after that to face judgment… Yu gonplei ste odon -and Bellamy pieces it together. 

“You said she gave this to you this morning?” 

Octavia nods; “Does this mean what I think it means?” Bellamy remains silent as he looks between the page with an almost identical map and the map she left Octavia. “Bell, Clarke can’t…” 

“I know O, I’m trying to figure it all out…” he was never the strongest at map reading and of course Clarke knew that, which is why it infuriates him that she left Octavia this map, “…you can read maps. Octavia I need you to read these two maps and I need you tell me what’s different.” 

“Alright, yeah, I can do that.” She takes the papers and glances between them, her eyes moving quickly and suddenly Octavia is before him and she’s strong and fierce and he can’t believe that he ever thought his sister was a stranger to him. She’s pacing and working through the steps and he watches and the weight of the situation seems lifted almost, because they have each other again and in some deranged way he knows he has to thank Clarke. “Ok, ok, I think I got it.”

“You think?” 

“Well there’s only one way to find out.” She starts to grab random bits of supplies and is walking out, but he’s already out the door and ready to go. “If we’re wrong and we waste the time…”

“I know.” He’s thought of nothing else since Murphy left the hall, but he can’t let that be their primary drive or focus. The pair makes their way out of camp as briskly as possible and Octavia is leading the way and they pass a clearing that is marked on both pages and he feels some of the fear uncoil, because they’re on the right track. Then they see her, it’s a hot spring and it’s not marked on his map but the symbol for peace marks it on Octavia’s and he sees that she’s still standing and he almost leaps for joy. 

“Oh my god, we did it…” but Octavia’s breath of relief stops short and turns into a shout as they watch Clarke sway unsteadily and fall into the water. Both of them race towards the body of water, but they’re still too far away and Octavia feels like they’re just not covering enough ground at the right speed. “Bell wait, you don’t know how to swim!” 

Still he presses on and his sister is left to watch as he wades out into the water and grabs their friend. He’s shouting, just the same as he shouted while he pumped her chest and pleaded with her to wake up all those weeks ago, but this time it’s not just desperation it’s volume. As if the louder he yells the more likely he is to waking her up. Octavia is so sick of hearing the scratchy and desperate repetition of her friends name in peril. “God damn it.” 

Bellamy is hunched over the drenched and unconscious body of Clarke and he’s pumping her chest again and Octavia comes over and nudges him out of the way before she takes over. “For fucks sake Clarke,” she grunts out as she starts breathing into her friends’ mouth, she’s warm to the touch and there was definitely a faint pulse, so Octavia figures there’s no need to break any ribs. “C’mon you pain in the ass!” and she blows another puff of breath and is rewarded with the gurgle and cough. 

“Thank God…” her brother grunts as they rush to turn her on her side. She’s still unconscious but Octavia thinks that has more to do with whatever was left over in her water canteen, but she’s breathing (it’s strained and raspy, but it’s the best sound Octavia has heard in a long time). Water and bile rest in a pile next to the trio as it absorbs into the dirt Bellamy lets out a long unsteady breath. His hand hasn’t left her hair, but his eyes are scanning over her body. Without the protection of clothes Octavia can see all of the scars that Clarke has hidden, some possibly self-inflicted and others she gained along the way and it makes her heart break a little more. 

“We have to get her back to camp; Jordan has to look her over.” Octavia keeps her voice as soft as possible as she watches Bellamy cover Clarke with his grey dull sweater. He’s already got her in his arms and is already walking in the direction of camp so Octavia grabs the pile of belongings and the canteen and follows. She remains silent for most of the walk and then she remembers there’s a little girl waiting back at camp; “I’ll go ahead and warn the others and we’ll make sure that Madi doesn’t see this.” 

Bellamy looks and feels exhausted and almost jumps at his sisters’ soft words, instead of verbalizing his thanks he nods once and then she’s off sprinting through the trees with an agility that could one come from years of training. He’s left to walk through the woods with Clarke in his arms; her breath is against his neck and is steady if not a little weak.  
He wants to wake her up and demand an explanation, something better than her letter, something tangible that he can make sense out of it and something he can fix. “What have you done Princess?” he whispers to her hair as he thinks of all the times he saw the signs and how obvious they had been. 

His self loathing and disgust continues until they enter camp, some members of their camp gasp openly at them while others look away quickly. Bellamy doesn’t really think about any of them, just of getting her to their medical tent and treated and cared for. He thinks about how to proceed once she’s awake and he feels a twinge of anger as Jordan removes her body from his aching arms and the rest of the council –save for Echo and Diyoza who have blessedly agreed to keep Madi distracted, are swarming him with questions. The only silent ones are Octavia, Murphy and himself, but Murphy is right on the edge as he clenches his fists so tight they’re white knuckled. Octavia is being told thanks and brushed aside and just as he’s about to tell everyone to just shut the fuck up his sister is taking the stand. 

“The nerve of you people,” she spits out to the group, “my brother and I just saved her life! All you guys have done have ruined it. I’m sorry; the exception in this is Murphy and I. So if anyone has the right to ask the questions it’s us and none of you should even be standing here.” 

“Octavia we’re just worried.”

“Worried my ass Reyes.” 

Raven glares a little, but then her shoulders slump; “We are! Clarke is our friend and…” 

“In what world were you two friends?” Murphy bites out quickly and he gets a sick satisfaction at watching the Latina in front of him flinch. “I remember a lot of things from our other world, but I never remember you two being friends. I remember Clarke trying and you just not seeing it as enough. You know, I even remember hearing about you throwing Clarke’s life on the line to save Spacewalker… then before his body was even cold you were shacking up with… what was his name again?” 

“Shut up Murphy, you don’t know a fucking thing.” 

Murphy laughs bitterly; “I know that you shouldn’t be here.” 

“That’s enough John, please, for the time being we’re all on the same team and our primary concern should be on Clarke.” 

He looks at Emori who is pleading with him with her eyes and shit does he love her eyes, but he can’t just let it go. “I can’t have her waking up to see her bullies hovering around her.” 

“Murphy, come on, you can’t be serious! We would never bully Clarke and obviously we’re here because we love her!” 

“Raven, please, I don’t think you’re helping the situation at all.” It’s Octavia from beside Bellamy. “I think we should all maybe step out and let Jordan work and he’ll come get us once she wakes up.” 

“I’m staying, but I think Octavia is right.” His voice sounds foreign to him, but Bellamy refuses to budge even through the protests and the raised voices and the disgruntled tone that Murphy is sending him. “Get. Out. I’ll send word once we know what is going on, if she wants me to.” 

“How do we know she’ll want to see you?” 

“Just for once, for once, Murphy can’t you just do as your asked?” Bellamy is pleading at this point, but Murphy doesn’t have a smart comment to make back and suddenly the weight of the room is pressing in on Bellamy. “I keep making the same mistake over and over again, but that stops now. I need you to just back off, I know you’ve been a much better friend and you deserve to be here.” 

“But?” 

“But, I’m asking as your friend as well… please, just…”

Murphy sees it then, the bit of Bellamy Blake that he remembers from before their six year trip to space, from before all the other shit happened. He sees the man that gave him that order ages ago and he hates that it had to come to this to get that man back, he had hoped that after Josephine he would just return, but it had taken an extra push. Murphy concedes with little argument after that, but he has his own stipulations, “You find me the second she’s up for visitors.” 

“Of course,” the two men shake hands on it and for the other spectators in the room it’s the first time in a long time that they’ve seen an action speak as deeply as that did, “thank you.” 

Raven drags behind the group as they slowly disembark and she looks like she wants to say something, but instead her eyes settle on the cot in the far corner that Jordan has Clarke on and then she’s turning around and walking away. Once Jordan is positive that everyone except Bellamy is gone he calls the man over and shares his thoughts. It’s a relief to hear that although Clarke ingest a large amount, the plant combination she mixed would not be detrimentally dangerous and wouldn’t cause any long lasting effects. She should wake up once the sleeping effect has worn off. The downside is they still have to follow protocol, enforce a seventy-two hour watch once she wakes up and figure out how to proceed. For now though, the knowledge that Clarke will be alright lifts a weight off of Bellamy’s chest. 

He asks Jordan to give him some time before he relays the news back to the group. The younger version of Monty –God does this kid resemble his dad, so much it hurts sometimes, just nods quickly and then excuses himself to take inventory and get some supplies ready. Bellamy is almost afraid to grip her hand that it’ll be too tight of a grip that she’ll slip away anyway. Two hours later his sister and Murphy are back in and surrounding him, then he feels his sister wrap her arms around him and run her hands through his hair and when Murphy looks away to stare at a blank mark on the wall across from them he thinks its safe enough to let his defenses come down. 

Bellamy Blake cries silently into his sisters’ arm for an unknown amount of time. Octavia lets him and Murphy rests his head on the mattress near Clarke’s free hand. Clarke Griffin sleeps through it all, completely unaware that the light she’ll see upon waking up is not the light she so desperately sought out, but instead the bright light that soaked the medical bay in the early hours of morning. She’ll feel the presence of Murphy and the grip that Bellamy has on her hand and Octavia will see her clear eyes widen before they too fill with tears, all with the notion that it’s the start of a new day.  
_________________________________________________________________________  
Before you go,  
Was there something I could have said to make your heart beat better?  
If only I'd have known you had a storm to weather....  
So, before you go,  
was there something I could've said to make it all stop hurting?  
It kills me that your mind could make you feel so worthless...  
So, before you go


	2. Grow Old

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok the feels have hit pretty hard... this part was super fun to write! It's starting to really peace together some things I'm looking to touch on throughout the series! Also if you have a chance, check out The Naked and Famous and this jammer of a song "Grow Old"!

_This isn’t supposed to be external…_

_But it seems I’ve made a mess…_

_This wasn’t meant to be special_

_Now it’s nagging me confess…_

* * *

Clarke used to love the sounds of the Earth in the early morning, when the sun first appears through the leaves and the birds begin their daily song. Somehow it’s the same, but always different and Clarke marveled at how the birds always just knew how she was feeling. Sometimes she used to think that her whole day could be dealt with bird songs and chirping insects, sometimes she thought the snort of a deer that could pick up her scent –the one she never tried to hide, would be enough of a reminder that she was alive and alright and on Earth. It was supposed to be her, no their, second chance. A second chance at living and for growth and… then it was nothing.

The Earth was destroyed, alongside most of Clarke’s hopes and dreams, but at least her friends were alive. She could get through anything if it meant that her friends were ok, even if they weren’t ok _with her_ anymore. Although that hurt, it cut Clarke deeper than any wound she had ever received. She had deserved it. Every look of disdain, every trace of anger, every question, every doubt… she deserved it all. When the wave washed over the world Clarke hoped she’d burn within. That it would consume her and she’d be able to die in the comfort that she watched her friends exit the atmosphere.

It didn’t.

She had read somewhere; once a long time ago, that man was destined to suffer before their Maker would show them mercy. She read somewhere that this maker, this God, was a merciful being, but only after he had struck fear into the hearts of his followers. She read that those who sinned lived in a realm of fire and despair and that their souls were damned. She read that those who sought forgiveness and tried to deny evil the chance to bloom within their hearts would receive peace and an unparalleled happiness. She wasn’t religious, nobody on the Ark was and religion on the ground wasn’t the same as these books and scripts. She didn’t believe in God or His works, but after the wave had swept over the land and the sea that He created and she had laid there in pain from radiation burns, she prayed.

She prayed for everything and nothing all at once, for peace and for justice against her sins. She pleaded for the physical peace of death in exchange for her soul, because she knew she was meant to suffer and burn… she was never meant for salvation. She wasn’t meant for hope. She was born without purpose, temporary missions aside, she knew deep down that all she’s accomplished has been shadowed by the sins she had to commit to get there. When she opened her eyes after the wave, after the searing radiation stemmed out and gave her the capability to sit up without screaming in agony there was nothing.

No birds.

No warmth from the sun.

No forgiveness.

Clarke used to love the early mornings of Earth, the dew on the grass and the light scent of the dirt as the world around her opened up for a new day. Now she woke up to ash and heat and an emptiness that sat so deep within her she wondered if this was her Hell.

* * *

_Don’t talk to me…_

* * *

Clarke feigned her sleep just long enough for it to turn real the morning she woke up and met Octavia’s tearful eyes. She hadn’t wanted to see Bellamy or Murphy or Octavia… she hadn’t wanted to see anyone or anything. She was so angry at herself that even as she kept the façade of peaceful rest on her face she had to fight back tears. Murphy and Bellamy continued to argue in hushed voices over her, about her and it sickened her. She had, yet again, disturbed the peace that they had worked so hard for.

“If you two feel the need to continue this conversation, do so outside.” Octavia’s harsh demand almost had her jumping, but the once vicious Blodreina has been running her hands through Clarke’s hair all morning and it soothed her in a way she hadn’t felt in years. “The last thing I want is for Clarke to wake up to you two at each other’s throats! She needs our support, not your personal competition of whose dick is bigger.”

Bellamy lets out a rough sigh and Clarke can imagine him running one of his hands through his hair and down his face; “Octavia… please, have some class.”

“I’m not the one yelling at my friend in a medical bay.”

Murphy turns towards the younger Blake and is met with her challenging brown eyes. Her facial expression leaves little room for argument and he can’t remember what he was arguing about because she has that steely look to her. Her time has a commander is not unnoticed in moments like this one, but it’s the gentle way her hands have carded through Clarke’s hair that reminds him that she’s still Octavia. Instead of verbally acknowledging his defeat he storms out of the medical bay. He doesn’t give Bellamy a chance to stay behind; “C’mon Bellamy let’s get Clarke’s stuff.”

“I…” and Bellamy is torn, because it was his idea to retrieve what was left of her belongings from her tent and have them moved into Madi’s cabin, but he doesn’t want to actually leave Clarke’s side. “What if she needs me and I’m not here?”

Clarke’s hand twitches, just enough for Octavia to notice, but thankfully not enough for anyone else in the room to see. “Bell, go with Murphy and get her shit. I promise that when she wakes up _if_ she wants to see you I’ll send for you.”

Octavia ignores the way that Bellamy’s painful glance rests on Clarke. She ignores the way her heart constricts at the dark circles under her brothers eyes. For a moment she’s angry again with Clarke, because it is always this woman laying next to her that is causing the strife in her brother’s life. It is always Clarke Griffin who puts that pained look in Bellamy’s eyes and it’s always Clarke that his brother gravitates back to. Octavia can feel the moment that Clarke is no longer feigning sleep and is actually at peace, but she doesn’t release her movements against the girls scalp.

Her hair is disgusting. It’s matted and greasy and dirty and Octavia can’t imagine how long it must have been in since Clarke actually cared enough to wash her hair. She felt the pity build within her stomach, but Clarke always hated pity so Octavia does her best to simply brush it aside. Still, there’s years of hostility between these two that can’t simply cannot get brushed aside as easily as the matted hair that rests against Clarke’s face. There’s so much that hasn’t been said. There are apologies that both women need to administer and accept to and from each other. They each have done unforgivable things to each other and the people surrounding them. It’s not the first time since landing on the new planet that Octavia aches to have Lincoln by her side once more, but it is the most difficult.

“She’s going to need to be under constant supervision for the next three days.”

Octavia looks over at Jordan, who undoubtedly is uncomfortable with everything happening around him. Octavia takes pity on the kid; “You’re not equipped to handle this.”

Jordan lets out a halfhearted laugh, “Yeah, I know. The basics I’m good at, the basics I know, but Clarke needs to speak to someone who’s better suited to handle her situation.”

“Are there people in Sanctum?” She almost regrets asking that question as she remembers her brothers’ hunched shoulders and defeated expression the day that Josephine was finally eliminated.

Jordan has the same contemplative look in his eye. “I’m sure there are, but the issue is going to be getting the okay to bring them here to us. Your brother would never let that fly.”

“My brother will do whatever he has to do to keep Clarke safe.” It’s true and both parties know it, but it still stings a little to Octavia to say it. “He’s always pushed for what’s best for Clarke, even when she couldn’t see it herself.”

“It’ll take at least a day for me to get over there and to talk to some of their professionals.” He looks conflicted now, because he knows that the seventy-two hour watch is the first step they have to take, but there’s a limited amount of people he trusts with this particular position. “It could wait until after our watch period.”

“Why?” Octavia questions hotly, “I can watch her for some of the time… and in case you missed it there are two grown ass men that would also be willing to sit with her. Bring it to the council and anyone that volunteers meets with you and then you decide who sits in the rest of the time.”

“It’s not a bad idea; we’d have to call a meeting.”

Octavia raises her hands in mock surrender, “That is not my job. I’m going to distract Madi so you can do that, let me know what time to report here tomorrow.” And with that, Octavia left the medical bay in a flurry of movement and a confidence that screamed leadership. Jordan couldn’t understand how Octavia had been one of the ones left out of a leadership role, but then he guess that there was a lot he had to learn about the group. One thing was for certain, they were not as close a family as his parents had originally led him to believe.

* * *

_I could improvise solutions…_

_I could try to reframe…_

_Until I’m left with your admission_

_That I’m not all there is to blame…_

* * *

They told Madi that Clarke was sick. Which wasn’t entirely a lie, one would suppose, but it left a strange twinge in Echo and Raven’s stomachs. At the moment Octavia had Madi and they were doing some exploring just beyond their camp borders. The younger Blake sibling hadn’t given them any insight on the situation at hand; instead she told them she was going to take Madi for the day. “Is that really a great idea?”

Octavia scoffed, “I have no desire to hurt Madi, not anymore.”

“But you did, you did want to hurt her at one point.” Echo argues, but it’s not in the way that Echo normally voices her concerns, it’s softer almost weaker.

Octavia senses the tension that resonates within the two women in front of her. Their meals are untouched, Raven’s good leg is bouncing a mile a minute and Echo can’t look anyone in the eye. She figures instead of making the situation worse she can just talk to these two, they were important to her brother after all and if things were going to actually change… well, she’d have to make herself okay with these strangers. “You’re right, I did. I was wrong and I was misled and I was angry, but I’m not anymore.”

Raven, whose back had been facing Octavia up until that point, turns around; “Can you have Madi back before sundown?”

“Of course,” Octavia agrees softly and begins to back out of the mess all, before she’s through the door entirely she pauses, “… Clarke will appreciate you looking out for Madi like that.”

It’s within that simple statement that has both the women at the table physically relaxing and releasing breaths they hadn’t known they were holding. Octavia had said that Clarke will appreciate their concern, not that Clarke would have appreciated it. It was small, but it was a telling statement and held so much power over Raven that she actually felt tears prick the corner of her eyes. She quickly brushed them away when she noticed Echo divert her gaze and then the two resumed to picking at their meal.

“You should talk to her, you know?” Raven is startled at the wistfulness in Echo’s voice as she makes her observation. “Maybe you guys can resolve whatever it is that happened between the two of you.”

“I don’t think that’s possible.” Raven sounds pitiful, even to her own ears, but it’s true. “Murphy was right; Clarke and I have never actually been what you call friends.”

Echo looks inquisitive and doesn’t let the topic drop, “She was your friend enough for you to mourn for her life when we were up in space the first time.”

“We mourned for everyone.”

Echo concedes, because Raven has a point. Everyone mourned for someone during their time on the ring and it took its toll on them spiritually and physically. “Do you remember how we became friends?”

Raven smirks a little and then lets out a small chuckle, it’s watered down by the emotion of the last day or so, but it’s there. “You had no idea how to open the door from the main hall to the kitchen. You were also determined to eat something other than algae; we’d only been in space for what? A day?”

“You showed me how to operate the doors and when I still couldn’t get it you eventually left notes. By the way, your notation of my language sucked.” Echo laughed softly alongside her companion, “You know you’re probably my first real friend.”

The air changes between them, but Raven still nods and acknowledges what Echo has to say. Of course she knows that Echo’s life was dismal and lonely. She had spent an unknown amount of time as a prisoner in Mount Weather and before that had been a spy for the Ice Nation. Afterward she had found herself working alongside men that couldn’t have cared less if she made it out of a raid alive or not. Then they spent the time in space on the ring and for the first two years Raven watched Echo slowly piece everyone back together.

Echo started with Raven, worked her way into the engineers’ everyday life on the ring. She always asked questions, feigned ignorance with a modern piece of technology, Echo even went as far as to sit in on the engineering brainstorm meetings. True, she had no real concept of what they were discussing, but she never missed a meeting. Once Raven stopped staring out into space –literally, for hours upon hours in angst riddled silence Echo moved on. She talked with Emori everyday and they bonded over their lives as outcasts and wanderers. Emori helped bring Murphy around again, besides Bellamy; Murphy had taken the longest to come around on the ring. A lot of times Echo made herself the target of his self-loathing anger and whenever he lashed out she ensured that it would be directed at her. Then there was Bellamy.

Echo worked tirelessly to get Bellamy to open up. She was his verbal punching bag, because he blamed her for Clarkes’ death and he wished so desperately that it had been Clarke standing beside him, _not her_. Still, Echo stayed by his side and when he finally broke and let his despair and anguish push past the hurt and anger Echo was there. As one would expect, being in such close quarters can only go in so many directions and the direction that Echo and Bellamy had taken was not a shock to anyone on board. Their relationship was radiating warmth, soft touches and small smiles. Their displays of affection were respectful and measured, nobody felt like a third-wheel or out of place with the couple. When they had opted to share their quarters Raven had assumed that all the passion and heat that the pair were known for individually would combust. She thought that their tension would lead off into a fireworks display with catastrophic echoes and claps.

Instead, they settled in peacefully, lovingly. And then Clarke was alive again… but Raven was so confident in her knowledge of Bellamy and Echo that she didn’t think anything of it. “You know he loves you right?”

Echo diverted her eyes, the women had taken a trip down memory lane, but instead of the sweet feeling it normally left within them it was bitter and dark. “He’s in love with her though, isn’t he?”

Raven bit at her bottom lip, “You should talk to him, and maybe he’ll be honest with you.”

Once Raven was left alone with her thoughts she couldn’t’ help but replay Echo’s question. Bellamy and Echo had always been a peaceful sea breeze through an open window on a clear sunny day. Their relationship was tranquil and nothing like the turbulent seas that was the dynamic of Clarke and Bellamy. No, they were chaos in the middle of a storm. They were fire and oil and explosions on bridges, they were crushing emptiness and hands gripping each other over a pit of death. They were hands pulling a lever for freedom. They were the head and the heart and neither of them had ever done well without the other.

* * *

_I could lie to be gentle,_

_We will never be the same…_

_The more adamant I am that it’s the surface…_

_The more the walls begin to flake._

* * *

The next time Clarke was awake it was because she was startled out of her sleep by a nightmare. It wasn’t uncommon, but it felt odd to wake up and have someone watching her, gauging her reaction and forming calculated responses and questions before she even fully opened her eyes. She couldn’t have been out longer than an hour or two if the sunlight was any indication of time. For a second she imagined being back in the original Drop Ship, on Earth, when she woke up after forcing herself awake all night to watch after one of the original hundred delinquents. She half expected to roll out of the cot and see Jasper or Monty themselves or maybe even Fox or Harper… but instead as her eyes adjusted she saw Jordan.

Her weaknesses were never broadcasted so plainly before. She can see in his eyes that he’s pained at her current condition and it makes it so much easier to hate herself, but instead of giving into the pull of self-pity and darkness that swims around the corner of her vision still she sits up fully. Sitting next to her is a plate of untouched food and as appealing as it looks she knows that it won’t settle in her stomach long enough to sustain her before she’s heaving it all back up. Her body has given up on her. Her mind has given up on. However, it appeared that nobody surrounding had… yet.

“You were thrashing around for a little while…” Jordan starts off uneasily, “… I wasn’t sure if it would be better to wake you or let you wake up naturally though.”

Clarke smiles softly over to the young boy. He’s old enough to be considered a man, age wise of course, but he’s still too young to have such distinct worry lines within his facial creases. She wishes that she was able to ease some of that burden. It’s been an awkward minute when she realizes he’s actually waiting for a reply, but it’s been so long since someone’s made a comment towards her in friendly conversation that she almost forgets how to respond. “No worries Jordan, I usually snap out of it after a while.”

He nods once in recognition and then lets out a rather shaky breath. “So, uh, you know protocol and all says that you have to be supervised for at least seventy-two hours.”

“Yes I’m familiar with it.”

He nods once again and then stammers out his primary concerns. He can’t ensure that he’ll be the only one to watch her. He isn’t equipped to handle this kind of treatment, he needs reinforcements or help (and she totally agrees). It’s when he starts to pace around as he’s explaining all these different reasons and liabilities that makes Clarke interrupt him. She does so softly, she doesn’t demand to know what he’s thinking, but she invites him to share some ideas and thoughts. She wants to discuss his concerns and it’s nice, he thinks it’s one of the nicest conversations he’s had in the infirmary in a while, but…

“I can see you’re not thrilled on the idea.” She’s not trying to hide her discomfort at the mention of Sanctum. “I’m not either and I know most of the Council won’t be entirely on bored with this, but Clarke I really think this is the best shot at finding someone you can talk to that can actually help.”

She wants to scream out that she isn’t asking for help that she doesn’t want it. She wants to stand up and walk out with her head held high and pretend that none of this happened. She wants to do these things simply so she can return to her area and try again and again and again until she’s finally successful. There’s just something in the pleading tone of Jordan’s voice that pulls her from those thoughts and makes her wonder. It’s a new voice that’s ringing in her head, different from the hateful cold one she’s been so used to, it’s a little softer warmer even and deeper.

“I don’t disagree with you; I think it’s the only idea that makes sense.” Clarke tries to keep the tremor of fear out of her voice. Sanctum scares her. The people of Sanctum scare her. The memory of what happened there leaves her terrified. Something must give it away because his hand is taking hers and he’s reassuring her and telling her over and over that they’re not letting her leave, she’s not going anywhere and nobody is going to let anyone hurt her. “My reaction is silly, I know.”

“No,” Jordan starts, “… it’s not silly at all Clarke. It’s to be expected! After everything that happened I wouldn’t blame you if you weren’t open to the idea. It’s just that, you’ve suffered enough and I don’t’ know how to fix this.”

“I don’t think it can be fixed Jordan… I think I’m just meant to feel like this.” She squeezes his hand. “You can’t fix everyone that comes through that door kid.”

“You’re right, but I’ll be damned if I don’t try.”

“When should I expect my first visitor?” She moves to change the subject because the emotion in his voice is too much like Monty and the fire in his eyes as he addresses her is so much like Harper that it physically hurts. “C’mon, you can’t tell me people haven’t tried to bust the door in on this place.”

His face softens a little bit and he lets out a more cheerful chuckle, “I’m meeting with the Council later on today and we’re going to figure out who’s best suited for the visitations, but I’d figure tomorrow morning should be fine.”

She nods and smiles again; “Tomorrow is good,” and then she yawns big and loud and she’s shocked herself, “I guess I’m still tired.”

“Then sleep Clarke, take all the time to rest you want.”

She does and it feels wonderful.

* * *

_Don’t talk to me…_

* * *

Raven popped in to the infirmary late afternoon. Part of her, a rather large part of her, hoped that Clarke would still be unconscious. She was never good at peaceful confrontation or apologies, but she had sat in silence in the mess hall for majority of the morning and early afternoon just processing what Echo had told her. Raven had felt actual fear when she first saw how Clarke was carried into camp with Bellamy. After everything that had happened in their past, all the mistakes and drama and animosity she hadn’t felt fear for Clarke’s life once. The details were still fuzzy but the underlying point was the same, Clarke had done that to herself and it scared Raven.

If someone as strong as Clarke could feel like their life simply wasn’t worth living for anymore, then who knew what it could mean for the rest of them? Maybe Clarke was meant to show them how to heal this time instead of fight. If this fierce and beautiful woman before her could show that kind of weakness then maybe it wouldn’t be so bad for the rest of them too. First, Raven had to get the courage to take a step. One foot in front of the other, she reminded herself, just keep going… Clarke taught her that, Clarke never stopped showing her how to live by putting one foot in front of the other.

Of course, nothing works out in reality the way that Raven works it out in her head. In her head her and Finn had gotten married and had a child while she continued to work for the engineering department of the Ark on her space walks. In her head it was Lexa that died that cold night and it was Clarke’s body that burned in the town square –only for Raven to realize the mercy that was shown to Finn once she found herself tied up in the center of deceit as a scapegoat. In her head lots of things happened, she saw a lot of different outcomes that never came to be and they always left her with a chip on her shoulder that she couldn’t shake. She had thought that when she approached Clarke that they’d both say sorry, they’d maybe cry a little and hug and everything would be _fine_.

If that was what she had wanted, she never should have opened with her pathetic attempt to brush everything under the rug. “Hey, you up for a visitor?”

Clarke raised an eyebrow, she was sketching or maybe she was reading, Raven wasn’t sure, but either way the girl in the bed closed whatever book she had rested on her lap with a quick snap. She also hadn’t said anything and they found themselves in an awkward bout of silence with an unexpected staring match. Eventually Clarke shrugged and opened the book back up and Raven took it has an invitation to fill in the empty seat beside the small bed.

“So…” she started awkwardly, “…I’m sorry?”

Clarke lifted her face out of the book and raised an amused eyebrow over at the girl beside her. “Is that supposed to be a question?”

“Well, no, but… I just don’t know what else to say.”

“You could try starting with telling me what you’re sorry for.” Clarke kept her tone light, even with her teasing comment, but it was difficult. Everything was difficult these days, but having to pretend around someone? It just took a breath out of Clarke that she simply didn’t have. “Or you could just say sorry.”

Raven tried not to let her temper get picked, but the idea of being dismissed so easily –again, ate at her. “Look I’m trying here alright? This isn’t easy for me to do Clarke, you’ve taken everything from me and…”

“Wait, wait… you came in here to apologize and you start it off by reminding me of what I’ve done?” Clarke looks just as surprised as Raven feels in that moment. “Unbelievable, you’re absolutely unbelievable.”

Raven feels her spine straighten, “I’m unbelievable? Every decision you’ve ever made has cost me something valuable! My boyfriend, my family, my friends… and I’m trying to understand how everything always works out for you, yet here we are because you tried to kill yourself! I mean for Christ’s sake Clarke, do you ever stop being so selfish?”

“Get out.”

“I mean I could forgive you for having feelings for Finn, I make no excuses for what he did in that situation,” Raven doesn’t hear Clarke’s stern demand and instead keeps going, “…but you killed him. I gave you a knife and told you to kill Lexa and _you_ instead _killed him_! You sent Bellamy to die. You let a missile drop on TonDC. You turned Octavia into who she’s become… every bad that thing that has ever happened to us is because of you.”

Clarke swallows thickly and bites her lower lip.

“I just can’t figure out why people keep _choosing you_ , but I never imagined that you’d suddenly decide not to choose yourself.” Raven feels herself becoming emotional, but she’ll be damned if she lets her emotions take over anymore than they have.

“I want you to leave.” Clarke states with steel in her voice, her eyes are cast forward and there’s a chilling aura to her that wasn’t there before.

“Clarke, I’m so…” And it’s like Raven has just processed all that she’s said and part of her can’t believe it herself, she’s startled when she hears the bite and chill of Clarke cutting her off.

“Shut up. Shut up and leave.” Clarke’s voice shakes as her words chase Raven out, “If you think for one second that I don’t know what I’ve done and the repercussions of every single one of my decisions you’re a moron Reyes. I’ve had to live with my decisions on my own while you’re walking around as if you’ve never made a mistake. Oh God, I used to envy you because of it. I used to want to be like you, I mean let’s not forget my mother chose you over me. While my mother called me toxic she was comforting you and you fucking _ate it up_. You sent me off to die! You didn’t come here to apologize Raven; you came here to validate your feelings of disdain and hatred. Well you know what? I hate myself so much it’s sickening, is that what you wanted to hear?”

Raven turns around sharply; “No! Of course that’s not what I want to hear Clarke! I wanted to hear that you were sorry for thinking the solution to _your_ problems was to stop existing.”

“My life means nothing to you,” Clarke has tears dripping from her chin, but she can’t feel them, “…I’m sorry Raven, that I cause you so much heartache in our past lives and that you can’t let it go.”

“Your life means everything to me Clarke…” it’s whispered in the heaviness of the air surrounding them, but it’s powerful and Raven hadn’t even realized how important it was to her to admit it until that moment, “…you’re all I have left of all the good things in my life too and I _am_ sorry.”

She’s just not sorry enough to stay while Clarke’s body shakes with sobs. She’s just not sorry enough to talk her through the bone crushing panic that tears through Clarke’s body. She’s just not sorry _enough_ and it shows as she walks out the door with dry eyes.

* * *

_Don’t talk to me…_

* * *

The meeting does not go as smoothly as Jordan had hoped it would. In fact he’s had Bellamy stomping around and angry ever since he brought up his day trip to Sanctum to find someone Clarke could talk to. It’s not just Bellamy though; it’s everyone –except Madi who isn’t aware there is a council meeting at the moment. They’re all adamant that the issue can be resolved amongst them; they don’t need someone, especially someone, from Sanctum. Jordan presses on though, because he needs them to understand.

“I know nobody likes this, I don’t even like it, but it’s the best shot we have at getting Clarke the help she needs.” Jordan has his hands flailing around desperately as Bellamy continues to argue with him and he wishes that he had bought Clarke along. “The decision has been made Bellamy; I can’t stress to you enough all the precautions I’m taking. I’m requesting a meeting with some specialists and if we can all agree on a criterion I’ll see if anyone meets it. And no, I’m not expecting Clarke to back into that place; they’ll have to come to us. I’ve already talked it over with her too.”

“Does nobody care about what they did to her literally less than six months ago?”

Everyone hears the crack in Bellamy’s voice, but nobody comments on it. They expect a remark to come from Murphy, but he’s agreed to sit with Clarke for the duration of the meeting so there’s nobody sitting around the table that can break the tension. Echo moves towards Bellamy slowly and with a soft soothing voice, she brushes her hand down his face and it’s like he’s snapped out of a trance. Her eyes are the wrong color though and he’s wanted desperately to see Clarke’s eyes all day. She hadn’t been up to visitors and Jordan didn’t think it best to bombard her.

“Are you okay with that Bellamy?”

He wasn’t paying attention, but Echo’s looking at him and he can see that the decision has truly already been made. “Yeah, I’m okay with it.”

He’s not, he’s so not okay with everything that’s been happening around him that he feels as if he’s having an out of body experience. His breath is too shallow and there’s cool sweat that’s been on his brow and neck all day. His hands have been trembling as well, but he’s kept his fists clenched so nobody can notice. He doesn’t have too much time to dwell on their discussion point, because Jordan is moving forward. They need volunteers to monitor Clarke for the twenty four hours that he’ll be away and Octavia has already offered to take twelve of them. Bellamy insists he’ll take the last twelve that way he can be there to meet the specialist first thing.

He’s stunned when Jordan denies Raven the request to sit with Clarke but allows Echo to take the first twelve. “Wouldn’t it make more sense to have Raven sit with her?”

Jordan shakes his head and then makes eye contact with Raven, who is obviously ignorant as to his reasoning and it makes him so mad he practically seethes. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea to have someone who can trigger her emotional distress sit with her.”

Raven scoffs; “I trigger her? That’s rich.”

“Well it’s either that or I imagined you leaving the infirmary with Clarke in a full on panic. She hasn’t spoken a word or responded to anything Murphy, Emori or I have tried in over six hours.” Jordan lets his words sink in and he’s pleased to see some kind of recognition light up in her eyes, “I think you two just need some space.”

“All we’ve had is space!” There’s a ripple of emotion that runs through Raven as she argues her point, because it’s not fair that everyone gets to talk of redemption and how to actually earn it, but she’s closed off. She’s trying. “So Echo tries to kill Clarke and she gets to sit with her for twelve hours, in an enclosed space with nobody else around?”

Bellamy snapped his eyes to Echo as Raven continued in her hysteria. “You did what?” and the background noise just fades out around the couple and his question is so quiet that Echo wonders if he even asked.

“Bell… it’s not…” Echo stops and tries to gather her thoughts, but Bellamy is starting to leave the meeting in a flurry of motion and Echo turns to face the rest of them. She looks defeated and Raven looks sorry –sincerely sorry, but none of that changes the fact that the world is crashing all around everyone in this room and nobody knows how to deal with it. If there’s one thing that they were never prepared for, it was the aftermath of chaos and how to process their own grief individually.

Jordan wonders if whoever they recruit realizes their hands will be full.

* * *

_Keeping count,_

_As if the hurt could balance…_

_Don’t walk with me…_

* * *

Clarke is on her side facing the wall, her throat hurts and her eyes sting and Murphy just refuses to go away. She thought she if she had just pretended that everything was ok that everything would start to go back to normal and she could slip away. She should have known that her attempt would put a mark on her, leave everyone on edge. She’s ruined everything for everyone once more and she detests herself for it.

Murphy just sits and watches the steady rise and fall of her chest. When he had first come in to relieve Jordan for the meeting Clarke had been vomiting into a basin, upon closer (gross) inspection Murphy noticed it was mostly bile and acid, no real food particles or any sign that she’s ingested anything of substance for a while. Another I.V. had to be started for her; she lost any liquid that she’d manage to retain twelve hours beforehand. Upon his inquisition to the young medic he had found out that Raven decided to stop in.

Murphy tried not to simply point the finger and pass blame. He was no more saint than anyone else around him, but he found it more and more difficult to do so while he watched Clarke lose it again and again and again. She’d been in a catatonic silence for hours but he could tell she was awake by the twitch of her fingers. He wondered how often she clenched her nails along her forearms. How many scars littered her body by her own doing? If that was the case, and he was sure that it was he wondered how deep this negative Clarke went.

Her fingers finally relaxed and her breath started to even out. Murphy was lost in thought by time Jordan made his way back into the infirmary. “She’s finally calmed down.”

“That’s because I put a sedative in with the I.V., but hopefully she doesn’t ever find that out.”

“Do you think she has a chance?”

Jordan sits down across the way of Murphy and looks over at Clarke. “Fighting the demons in your own mind is a lot harder than the demons that consume people.”

“I just don’t understand how nobody ever saw the signs.”

“For all we know she’s been facing this battle for a long time,” Murphy lets out a low curse at Jordan’s cryptic analysis. “I think if she’s still here right now it’s because there’s a part of her that wants to live, but I don’t know if that part outweighs the other.”

Murphy taps his fingers on the lumpy mattress in thought. The silence stretches between the two men for a few minutes before the older of the two of them voices his overall concern. “We’re all a little fucked.”

Jordan snorted; “Under-statement of the year.”

* * *

_Your dirty feet are obvious,_

_And how could you brag confidence?_

_A willing keen participant,_

_In rolling waves of incidents…_

* * *

Echo finds Bellamy pacing in their cabin with his hands in his hair. He’s already kicked over a chair in his venting and Echo approaches him slowly. She’s transported back to the first time in space, the first time she tried talking to him after she betrayed him. Her throat feels just as tight as it did that day. Her hands shake in much the same way. This time though, her stomach is in knots out of despair and not because she’s uncertain. Bellamy Blake has always based his relationships on honesty and trust and family.

Echo has always resented that Bellamy valued Clarke as strongly as he did. From the very beginning, all the way back in Mount Weather. Everything he did was for Clarke, because of Clarke, to protect Clarke… _Clarke, Clarke, Clarke_! So the moment that he had turned his grieving mind from Clarke to her she jumped. Soon it was Echo that Bellamy consulted on his hard decisions, it was Echo that he sought out and ensured safety for. Echo was his new muse and she never even considered the possibility that Clarke would survive the death wave.

She can also admit that she had acted under extreme distress and although it wasn’t an excuse Echo had thought that when the time came to have this discussion things wouldn’t have been so escalated. She realizes that’s just as wishful thinking as hoping Clarke would die. Except, she no longer wants Clarke to die! Begrudgingly she had worked alongside the fierce woman and she had found herself building respect. She operated in similar ways to Bellamy and it was admirable and brave and all these other things that Echo wasn’t.

Her breath stops short in her throat when he finally turns towards her, his eyes are cold and distant and his hair is just a mess on top of his head. He’s heaving as if he had just run a long distance and Echo aches to fix it for him, but what she’s seeing can’t be fixed by her or anyone else. This is all Bellamy, this is his rage, and this is his emotional response after avoiding emotions for over a century. This man in front of her is not the man she fell in love with, not the man she’d kill for and she worries. How could she not have seen that this was where it all was leading? How could she not know that everything would come bursting apart at the seams in one way or another? Nobody in their circle has _ever truly known peace_ , but with peace comes quiet and sometimes quiet is violent. 

So she breaks the silence and is ashamed at how utterly pathetic her voice sounds to her as she begs him to understand and to just listen to her, “Bellamy please, let me explain.”

“What is there to explain?” He throws his hands out in exasperation. “You tried to kill one of the most important people in my life and you lied about it for years! I found out because Raven is having a mental breakdown. So what is there to explain?”

“You just don’t understand! You weren’t there!” Echo takes a step towards him, but he backs away and its hurt enough to make tears spring to her eyes. “She left you in Polis to die Bell… _she left you_. I couldn’t forgive her for that.”

Bellamy feels his temper rise as heat spread across his body, “It wasn’t your right to forgive her! In case you forgot we did the same exact fucking thing _! I left her to die_! Then I destroyed the only thing that kept her alive in solitude and I understood her reaction, I forgave her!”

“I understand that now,” she’s trying to get them both to stop yelling, she can handle many different versions of Bellamy, but she’s never been able to handle his booming voice when he yells. “I love you, so, so much Bellamy and I acted out in fear and resentment.”

He shakes his head, because that isn’t enough. It’s not enough to hear the woman he loves pleads for him to understand and forgive a sin he simply cannot forgive. Echo saved his life on the ring, Echo is who he fell in love with when he needed it, but Echo could never be Clarke and he’s battled with that hold up their entire relationship. “This needs to stop Echo.”

“Bellamy please,” but it isn’t enough, she isn’t enough and the inevitable that she knew would come is standing before her. She isn’t ready. “I never should have laid my hands on her. I should have told you. I shouldn’t have ever allowed you to make a promise I knew you couldn’t keep…”

“You mean the promise that nothing would change? God damnit Echo if I had wanted Clarke that badly I wouldn’t have built a home with you! I chose you! _I love you_! And all this time you’ve been hiding secrets from me. I could have forgiven you if you had told me, but even now you’re sorry I found out.”

Echo shakes her head, her emotions are all over her face and tears are running freely. “No! No, I assumed Clarke told you. I didn’t know you never knew! I… I don’t know, I…”

“Clarke never mentioned it and it shouldn’t have been her responsibility to do so.” Bellamy leans against the table he built for them in the middle of their open space. Echo had been so happy when he brought it in, he looked so proud and their space was starting to feel like a home. She had never experienced that feeling before. “If you think for one second that I wouldn’t have confronted you about something like that, then you don’t know me at all. What did you think? She’d tell me and I’d side with you and that would be it?”

Echo shakes her head again, the fight is no longer in her and if Bellamy wasn’t reeling from all the emotions he’s felt in the last twenty-four hours he’d have taken her in to his arms and they could have talked about it, but when it came to Clarke? There was never any rationalization and he knew that there was no going back from this moment, this decision. “I love you Echo…”

She lets out a small defeated chuckle, “… but she’s it for you. It was always going to be Clarke, that’s how it’s meant to be Bellamy.”

She walks over to stand right in front of him and looks into his eyes. They’re less cold; they’re full of tears he hasn’t let drop yet. She places her hands on his chest and leans up, but when she presses her lips against his it takes him a while to respond. Longer than it ever has and it breaks her heart. They break apart because he has his hands on her elbow and is slowly stepping back. The inevitable has happened and Echo agrees that the taste of regret is bitter on her lips.

She wants to tell him that in two days she’s leading an expedition group to the north and they’ll be gone for about two weeks. She wants to tell him that when she comes back they can work it out, but she knows that when she comes back things will already be moving in a vastly different direction. She wants to tell him that she’ll have her stuff out before she leaves, but that makes it too real. So instead she says nothing as she steps into the early evening air.

She walked with her head held high towards the mess hall, but she couldn’t face everyone (read; she couldn’t face Madi or Raven). Instead she ends up leaning heavily against the far side wall as her sobs escape her. She’s so sure that she’s alone that she startles when she feels a hand on her shoulder and turns to see Octavia looking at her with patience and understanding.

“If it helps, I cried the first time he chose her over me too.”

* * *

_You’ve made your bed,_

_Now sleep in it you prince._

* * *

Bellamy sneaks into the infirmary once the camp has quieted down for the night. Jordan gave him specific instructions not to do so; “She can’t handle any kind of upset, whatever happened between her and Raven was enough.” Although, Bellamy is positive that what happened between her and their token mechanic would not be the outcome of his surprise visit.

They know each other too well, or he thought that they did, but obviously he was too blind and stupid to see what was happening with her. _You let her down again_ , he thinks to himself as he approaches the cot and notices the I.V. that’s still stuck in her arm. He notices how small she looks in comparison to the big personality she’s always had. She’s translucently pale and the circles under eyes are prominent in the dark. She looked better upon waking up from having Josephine removed.

He beats himself up for not staying with her. There had been minor details to see to and as leader he had to see to them. He thought with his head while his heart lay on that cold table and was alone. He can’t make up all their lost time, but he can stop playing this avoidance game. He only avoided her because it hurt, because it took him weeks to figure out something was wrong. He avoided her because he told her she wasn’t his family and that’s so far from the truth! He doesn’t know how to tell her everything, because it just seemed like too much.

No to mention she avoided him too. Granted, she had made her feelings very clear after the truth of the radio messages came out and he had stayed with Echo. He loved Echo, but the ache in his chest whenever he wanted to share something with her and she didn’t understand was just one of the many reminders that she wasn’t Clarke. Fuck, he screwed up; he screwed up so bad he wasn’t sure he’d forgive himself if he were in their positions. He knows though, he knows that Clarke will _always_ forgive him –them, and it scares him. It scares him so much because he knows they’ll never be able to fix whatever this is if she just keeps forgiving them.

He sits beside her as quietly as possible and shouldn’t be shocked at all when her clear blue eyes are open and softly watching him. He inhales softly and reaches his hand out, her fingers are cold and her grip is weak but it’s there and it’s the most comforting thing he can ever recall feeling. Even from the very beginning on Earth he always felt his most confident when her hand was in his. He lets his thumb rub along her knuckles in a pointless pattern and she closes her eyes with a heavy sigh.

He thinks that this is how it should be; this heaviness that’s surrounded them for too long is dissipating. He feels comfortable in his own skin for the first time in months. He wants to cherish her and hold her and he can finally say these things to her, but then he’s remembering Jordan’s warning. Now he’s concerned that sharing those feelings with her would be too much too soon and it scares him all over again, because if he has to destroy the universe to keep from ever having to hold her limp body in his arms again, he’ll do it. Instead of verbally relaying all of it to her he just brings her hand to his lips.

For now that’s enough.

* * *

_They would’ve flared out like summer,_

_Just some pictures I could keep._

_Your memory’s inventive,_

_I won’t ever fall asleep._

* * *

In the soft morning glow Clarke wakes up to see Bellamy’s head against her side on the cot. Here hand is gripped in his in such a way that she fears she’ll have difficulty moving her fingers throughout the day. She knows her first ‘visitor’ will be arriving soon –as Jordan has referred to her mandatory watch as visitations now, and she suspects it isn’t Bellamy. Although she desperately wants it to be, she so badly wants to beg and plead with him to just sit with her throughout these next couple of days. Realistically she knows that’s not possible, he’s a camp leader and can’t spend days at a time missing from the action just because she felt nice holding his hand. Not to mention Echo, as much as Clarke resented their relationship she respected the woman and would never want to do something to jeopardize their relationship.

She watches as the warm sunlight streaks through his curls and highlights his face. His freckles look like constellations across his skin and Clarke feels a surge of nostalgia for the children they once were. The both of them atop the drop-ship of their home camp (before Camp Jaha and Arkadia) just looking into endless pools of wonder, it’s where they contemplated their lives, their futures and pasts and where they played pretend. She let her free hand ghost over his skin ever so lightly; she didn’t want to wake up, the dark circles prominent under his eyes even in sleep. Ever the guard that he is, his eyes are open and taking in his surroundings almost immediately before his deep sweet looking eyes are locked with hers.

She’s envious, because the sunlight falls in such a way that his eyes look like deep pools of honey and warmth. Eyes are the key to the soul and she believes with all her heart that his soul is as warm and as kind as the endless pools she’s caught staring into. She wonders if anyone has looked into her eyes and sees the ice and emptiness that echoes throughout her soul? She wonders what he sees when he looks at her as intently as he is in this moment. She doesn’t realize she’s even shared her thoughts until he’s smiling softly.

His voice is a whispering ghost that sends goose bumps along her arms. “I see a shade of blue that couldn’t’ be matched by the clearest sky. Sometimes they’re almost gray, like the clouds that form storms over the ocean. They’re fighters’ eyes, but they are certainly not cold or empty.”

She wishes that she had better control of her emotions, because she is apologizing and crying but it’s not heavy think sobs; instead just tears that she can’t contain and empty sighs and soft tremors. Her eyes are big, round, and full and the sincerity in her voice as she whispers out the one thought that has always weighed the heaviest on her chest. “I’m not worth it…”

“No Clarke,” his heart breaks as he pleads in the early morning silence around them, “no, no, no… you’re worth so much more, ok? Do you understand? You’re worth so much more.”

“You should have let me go…”

He’s not sure if she’s referring to the recent incident or if she’s talking about all the many times he’s pulled her life out of direct danger. He doesn’t regret any of those times that he saved her life and he wishes that he could help her see it. Instead he takes his hands, freeing himself from her grasp and gently frames her face. The calluses on his hands feel odd against her smooth skin. Of course, there are small little scars and bumps along the highest part of her cheekbones, but Bellamy only sees the perfection of Clarke Griffin. His thumbs catch the dampness under her lashes.

“I could never let you go Princess… you hear me Clarke? Never.”

She almost believes him, almost.

* * *

_And now I’m sorry for explaining,_

_How you fucked it up again…_

_Now I’m watching you backpedal,_

_I wasn’t supposed to feel ashamed…_


	3. Last Words First

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alrighty folks! Here we go next chapter, I do apologize for the delay in posting. These are weird times my friends and my schedule is all topsy-turvsy (that is, it's non-existent) and in addition to that I am a first responder and spent the first half of this lockdown packed with training and emergency response prep. Here we are though! A lot of my writing comes from personal experiences, so from this chapter on there's a lot of tips and coping tricks that I was taught within my own struggles. So if you can relate to anything or want to share some things that have helped you, please reach out! This chapters music inspiration is "Last Words First" by Volunteer.

_When we started…_

_We were hand in heart and heart in hand…_

_We were flawless_

_But we were dancing in quicksand…_

_And here we are_

* * *

Clarke was stunned as she watched the former grounder warrior Echo walk quietly into the infirmary during the early morning hour. Bellamy had just left moments prior, so there was no doubt the two lovers had a moment together, but Clarke didn’t actually like to think about that. Realistically she knew that beautiful brunette could have been entering the infirmary for multiple reasons, in fact it never occurred to the exhausted lump under the scratchy covers that Echo would be coming in to sit with her. Yet, she did. Echo occupied the seat that Bellamy had just recently vacated with such a surge of confidence and belonging that it made Clarke envious.

Jordan gave Clarke little time to sit in wonder as he briefly explained the schedule for the next two days. Multiple twelve hour shifts divided between those that volunteered. Clarke was reassured that Raven would be kept out of the infirmary, but Clarke didn’t really care one way or another. Nothing that Raven said was false and everyone knew it, she just wished everyone would stop pretending it wasn’t. Jordan lets Clarke know when he’s all finished and that he’ll be back soon enough and she can’t help but feel guilty about the whole thing. People wouldn’t be sacrificing their entire days or all their free time to babysit and hand hold her if she had just succeeded in removing herself from the equation.

She is startled from the spiral of her thoughts when Echo cleared her throat awkwardly. The woman of Clarke’s envy has her hair pulled back in a messy bun and there are soft tendrils of hair that frame her pointed face. Her clear eyes are cast down towards her hands that have been resting in her lap since she sat down. She’s in normal Echo attire, dull grey shirt with black pants. Her boots are worn and dull, just like everyone else’s. Clarke notices that this fierce warrior next to her has no visible weapons on her and it makes her arch an eyebrow.

They sit in tense silence for the first few hours. Clarke has taken to sketching along the wall that her cot backs up against and Echo has taken to watching her. Clarke doesn’t mind, mostly because she’s so focused on what she is doing that she can hardly feel the piercing amber eyes of the woman next to her. She’s also unaware that what she’s drawing evokes a stronger emotion in her companion. All she knows is that she’s drawing and it’s been a long time since she’s let herself get lost in her sketches and her art. “You have a gift Clarke.”

The blonde stops and looks over at Echo. She expects to see the normal look of indifference or disdain that mars her face normally when they deal with each other, but instead she finds awe and a soft smile. Clarke just smiles weakly then turns back to face the wall, she doesn’t outright acknowledge the compliment from beside her, and she doesn’t feel the need to. She continues where she left off at her fathers’ smile. Only when she’s finished and she looks, she’s not so sure she has it just right and she feels something clench within her.

“I used to be able to remember them… all of them; every detail from the lines around their mouths as they smiled to the way light would hit their eyes.” Echo knows she’s talking about all of the live she’s lost. They’re plastered on the wall, except Echo can see that she’s added those still living to the collage. “I can’t even remember my own fathers face anymore… not as clearly.”

Echo picks at the hem of her worn shirt. “Maybe that’s how we know they’ve moved on, ya’ know? Maybe, that’s the sign they send us that it’s all okay again.” This is a desperate hope that Echo holds on to, because she also cannot remember the faces of her comrades or Roan or anyone that held any significance to her. She just has vague recollections and the longer she lives the dimmer those lights get.

“Maybe…” Clarke sits back further and lets out a small humorless laugh as her fingers trace over the portrait of Bellamy and then Madi, “…sometimes it feels like I’m seeing the people around me in the same way I still see my father. Like they’re here, but they’re not. Maybe it’s because I’m trying to believe it’ll be okay, that they’ll be okay.”

“You see people Clarke,” Echo starts off in reply. “And I think if you’re seeing us differently that it’s not okay.”

Clarke hums, “Ever think it could be me?”

“No.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

Echo chews at her bottom lip as she chooses her next words, “At one point in time, yes I thought it was you.”

Clarke turns to face her not-friend, “Is this where you apologize for all the shit I’ve done you blame me for? Because, Raven tried that and if that’s the direction this is going to go I can save you the time.”

“No, no that’s not it at all.” Echo leans forward so that her elbows dig into the top of her thighs and her hands cover her face. “I won’t apologize for how I felt I’ve spent so much time doing that and I refuse.”

“Fair enough,” Clarke crosses her arms across her waist, “so why are you here?”

“Because it doesn’t matter how I felt, my response was wrong and I owe it to you to make sure that we make amends.”

“Echo if this is because of Bellamy, I’ve done everything I could to distance myself from him. You don’t have to pretend to like me for your relationship. I can talk to him and sort it out.”

Echo laughs, actually laughs, because of course Clarke’s immediate response is to assume this is because of Bellamy Blake. It’s amazing to Echo that Clarke holds herself in such little regard that she can’t see that this is about _them_. This is about her and Clarke, this is about the girl that gave up her spot in space to make sure they could go, this is about the bond that could have formed between the two of them if one of them (read; Echo) hadn’t been so insecure and jealous and unreasonably angry. It was time that Echo admitted it to herself, she was angry. She was angry at Clarke, a ghost for six years and alive the next day and all of a sudden Echo was on the outs. She was angry because Clarke just took it, just took the negative treatment and the disdain.

“I fail to see the humor in this.”

“You’re so…” Echo pauses to laugh some more, “…Bellamy and I broke up.”

“Oh, I’m sorry…” Clarke inches closer to the edge of the cot, “I suppose that would explain the irrational laughter.”

Echo just shakes her head, “No, not really, I’m laughing at you.”

“I want to say I’m offended, but I’m mostly confused.”

Echo laughs for a few more seconds before she manages to calm herself down, she’s wiping at the tears that cascaded down her face during her episode as she explains; “Bell and I were never going to work, I mean, maybe we did for a while, but…”

“Is this where you’d like me to apologize?”

Echo shook her head softly. “Not at all, I’d actually like you to not apologize. I am sorry though, for putting my hands on you, for treating you like I did, I was acting selfishly.”

Clarke tilted her head a little and picked at the scratchy blanket. “I don’t think so, you love him and I think you responded exactly how a woman in love would respond.”

Echo shakes her head, “It’s not, because you never laid a hand on me.”

“Well, I’m not a woman in love.” _A lie_ , a boldly told and bad one, but Clarke said it without missing a beat and Echo found she was impressed.

“You’re a horrible liar Clarke Griffin.”

* * *

_Pit in my stomach_ _heart on my sleeve…_

_  
Tears in your eyes and no air to breathe._

_  
How can I tell you?_

_  
The hardest part of life is letting go._

* * *

Murphy arrives to relieve Echo just after dinner and he has a plate of food for Clarke. Her appetite isn’t there, but she knows that she’ll have to eat –especially because she knows Murphy will not settle for her feeble excuses. She had managed to eat some of the breakfast that Echo had provided and picked lightly in the afternoon. She had done much better retaining her fluids and she was thankful that there would no longer be a need for the I.V. that had remained within her arm. She had recorded her fluid intake and how she had felt and whether her companions liked it or not she had planned on taking the needle out of her arm within the next day or so. She may not be needed or trusted with her medical knowledge and skills anymore, but the fact remained that she had them and she would not allow for a waste in supplies. Clarke had been snapped out of her musings by Echo’s stretching.

“Sorry there wasn’t much to do around here.” Clarke smiled softly.

Echo snorted lightly and smirked back while she stretched out her shoulder; “I don’t think I could have handled any more excitement.”

Clarke laughed softly; “We will definitely have to tone it down next time.”

Echo stopped her movements and took a contemplative pause. “I actually hope that next time we can just get together on our own.”

Taken aback Clarke stuttered out a small sound of approval, though she knew it sounded as confused as she had felt. Echo doesn’t comment on the lack of verbal confirmation and instead took hold of Clarkes’ hand and squeezed lightly and if the formally known Wanheda was asked it was probably the best form of comfort she received. Instead of saying anything out loud Clarke just squeezes back although it is much lighter than she’d like.

“Is the team ready to go?”

Murphy shrugged as he plopped into the now vacant seat; “As ready as ever I’d assume, selecting some of the more stir crazy members of camp was a great idea.” He concludes his idea by plopping his feet up on the edge of the bed.

Clarke wants to make a comment, wants to ask what it is they’re talking about, but she remembers her place and remains silent. She misses the days when she could bite out a friendly ‘ _comfy there Murphy?_ ’ and it not start a fight. She wishes she could gently nudge his feet off of her bed, the way she had bumped shoulders with him many times over. Instead she goes back to her empty pages, the pages Bellamy returned to her, because ‘ _her story wasn’t over_ ’ so she had to keep filling the pages. Before she can continue her sketch she feels the toe of Murphy’s shoe nudge her leg.

“Did you hear that?”

Clarke looks up and both he and Echo are looking at her expectantly and in return she feels her face flush lightly, “Uh… no, sorry I missed it.”

“I was wondering if you had any tips for the landscape to the north of us, I’ll be taking a small exploration group out that way.”

Clarke hadn’t known that, she hadn’t realized that the council had finally managed to come to terms with their exploration and position on the new planet. Instead of asking her questions she smiles, she’s always smiling instead of just voicing her concerns, “It’s hillier with a lot of uneven ground, but otherwise I haven’t gotten too far.”

“Do you think it’s worth headed north?”

Clarke takes a moment to process the question; “Are you asking me for my opinion as a leader or are you asking to hold a comparison to the decision that’s already been made?”

Echo directs her eyes to the ground, her stance no longer strong and sturdy, “I’m asking for both, I mean either way we’re going to be gone for two weeks. It’s just a topic we needed you there for and…well…”

Murphy clears his throat and straightens his posture, “Mistakes were made and lessons have been learned.”

Clarke shakes her head at Murphy’s attempt to diffuse the situation. “The north is a good start and we need to start cataloging what’s around us.”

“Is there anything in particular you’d like us to document?”

“Plants,” Clarke doesn’t hesitate to respond to the inquiry, “…we need to document the botany that surrounds us so we can utilize it for healing purposes. Animals would be beneficial as well, I doubt there are any other civilizations out there, but there could be tribes that have split off from our neighbors.”

Echo nodded and took mental notation; “In essence we need to be aware of what is available to us in resources. If there are tribes out there we have to proceed with caution, our peace is very situational at the moment.”

Clarke and Murphy both nod; “It’s a good mission and I know that you’re the one to carry it out.”

Echo can’t help the sincerely bright smile that takes over her face, “I’ll see you in two weeks then.”

She slips out of the infirmary after that and Clarke has a stirring moment of excitement. Two weeks ago she had figured she’d be dead, but now it feels like she has something to look forward to that involves living. It’s just two weeks, she tells herself, but its two weeks she didn’t imagine herself having. She looks over at Murphy who is now looking at her, “So she’ll see you in two weeks?”

“Yeah,” Clarke lets out a nervous breath and begins to pick at the well balanced meal on the dingy plate on her lap, “don’t read into it Murphy.”

Murphy shrugged; “I just think it’s a good thing that you’re looking two weeks into the future.”

“Or maybe I just didn’t want to disappoint her.”

“Nah,” Murphy sips at his canteen and watches her take another small bite of her dinner, “…see Clarke Griffin isn’t a person that says things she doesn’t mean.”

Clarke finishes her meal in silence, she doesn’t eat everything on the plate but it’s enough that reassures Murphy she won’t starve to death. He assumes that they’ll be sitting in silence for the rest of the night until she’s speaking softly; “I wish I knew who Clarke Griffin was, like you do.”

He leans forward; “What do you mean? Of course you know who you are…”

She shakes her head, “How can I know who I really am if all I’ve ever been told is how wrong I was? How can you say you know me when we’ve spent majority of our friendship at odds?”

“Clarke…” he meets her eyes and for the first time in forever he’s back on the ground for the first time surrounded by the woods. He’s wide eyed and excited and terrified and it’s all flooding back because everything he felt in that moment is reflected in her eyes. “…I know you and I know that you’re one of the best people I’ve ever met…”

She cuts him off, “The only thing people remember about me are the bad things, the things I did that I hate myself for… the only person you _think_ you know is the person that _did_ those things Murphy.”

“You raised Madi, you raised her to be this incredible young woman and you taught her what it meant to have spirit and drive and ambition… you taught her what love is and bad people don’t know how to do that.”

“I taught her how to be selfish, to hold onto things that don’t exist…” Clarke shakes her head as if she’s trying to quiet the demons in her head and Murphy thinks she could very well be, “What happens when someone has to make the bad decisions again? What happens when another sacrifice for the greater good has to be chosen? Who do you think everyone’s going to turn to?”

He doesn’t have a verbal answer, because nothing he could say would be truthful. He knows how easy it was to push things on Clarke, because she never turned them down and she was so god damn rational and she was trained to handle high stress situations and life or death scenarios. It didn’t make it right or even really make sense, but somehow it always ended up being Clarke. Murphy is abrasive and impulsive and truthfully he’s not the best guy around, but he’s not a liar and he could never lie to Clarke when the truth is plain as day.

“There has to be another way.” He says it because he believes it to be true, but the light leaves her eyes and she’s staring at a blank spot on the wall.

“Not one that you all seemed to agree on.” She whispers it out and he’s biting against the biting reply he has stored up. “I’m tired Murphy.”

He loses all anger in that simple statement, because yeah, she looks tired and he can feel that to the core of his very being so he can only imagine the weight she must have resting in her bones. So, instead, he scoots a little closer to her bed, leans back against the wall and takes her hand in his. “Yeah… me too Clarke, but I think we just need some rest now.”

She slowly slides down to lay, it’s still light outside and she’s slept so fucking much in the last two days that it feels impossible to be this exhausted. She turns on her side so she’s facing Murphy and tightens her grip, “So we’ll get some rest and maybe tomorrow we can figure out what to do…”

He doesn’t respond, he squeezes her hand back and he sighs and he leans his head against the cold wall. His mind is reeling, because after the blind panic of the situation wore off the clinical and analytical part of all of this (whatever the _fuck_ this was). He knows that deep down there isn’t one person in their makeshift community that isn’t a little fucked up, some more than others, obviously. Her hand goes limp with sleep and he jumps and immediately his eyes inspect her body to ensure she’s breathing and he can’t help but think of how utterly _fucked up_ that is. He hopes that Jordan can find someone willing to work with them, that he can find someone willing to come in and not see broken people with broken minds. He hopes Jordan can find someone that can see their potential, because nobody ever has before…

“Tomorrow Princess… we’ll figure it out tomorrow.”

Hope, isn’t something Murphy normally relies on. He prefers things that are more tangible, but Clarke gave him this little spark of this broad spectrum concept, she gave him hope for the next two weeks… hope for tomorrow. He held her hand all night afraid that if he let her go, she’d disappear just like all the other good things in his life did before he met Emori. John Murphy was many things, he was resilient, resourceful and stubborn, but most importantly he was selfish and everyone knew it. He wasn’t going to let Clarke go and it was about time she just accepted it.

* * *

_One more minute and I’ll tell you how much it hurts…_

_It’ll all be finished and we’ll see whose heartache is worse…_

_There is no solution but to bury it all in the dirt_

_Relief is coming…_

_Who will muster up the courage to say last words first?_

* * *

Its midmorning, almost lunch time when Octavia decides that she’s had enough. She can’t sit idle for an entire twelve hours, it’s just not natural and she’s not comfortable and she can only imagine how much it doesn’t help Clarke when looking at the bigger picture. If Octavia is being completely honest, she’s not sure why Clarke simply let them enforce a total lock down for her and then of course, she’s shocked to find out that nobody but Clarke has enforced this isolated prison. Octavia gets it, she does, Clarke is depressed and she’s punishing herself and she’s trying to cut herself off and out of everyone lives by just giving up, but she’s never going to get better if everyone just _lets_ her do it!

It’s not the same as actual suicide, but the former leader figures it’s probably close to it. There are other things Octavia is thinking of too, like the fact that Clarke’s hair lost its shine and is so greasy it’s just morphed to her head. Her clothes are dirty. Her bedding is dirty. Not that Clarke is dirty, no, Octavia thinks, it’s just that she’s been in the same spot for over two days and who knows the last time she actually _bathed_. It’s just not healthy! Maybe Octavia notices all these things because she’s focusing on more than the bigger picture. Maybe she notices them because it’s easier to focus on these miniscule details than on the fact that Clarke is so unstable that five minutes alone could be more than enough for her to disappear for good.

“Okay,” Octavia says as she pushes herself up and out of the seat as she turns to face Clarke with her arms crossed at her chest, “…get up.”

Clarke raises an eyebrow but pushes her legs over the edge of the bed and slowly stands. Her legs are weak and she’s shaky as she stands in front of the fierce storm that is Bellamy’s sister. Octavia looks up and down her figure a couple times and if Clarke was inclined to care just a little bit more than she did, she’d feel uncomfortable. Really, she’s just confused. “Octavia?”

“Shhh,” the girl holds a hand up as she turns around and peeks out of the infirmary door, now Clarke is a little more than confused, but she remains quiet, then Octavia starts to mutter“…Raven has Madi for the day and Bell is being supervised by Emori, I mean really, the man is worse than a child right now.”

There’s an immediate flash of guilt in the frail woman’s eyes, “Why does Bellamy need supervision?”

Octavia rolls her eyes, “You know why, playing dumb really isn’t your forte Clarke.” Clarke goes to sit back down but she’s stopped by a surprisingly gentle hand curled around her upper arm. “No, you’re not getting back into that bed until the sheets have been changed.”

Clarke blinks three times, “Uh… ok…” she turns to start removing the sheets but she’s being stopped again, “Octavia, I can change the sheets myself.”

“Please, I’m aware of how capable you are.” Octavia feels only a little bit of anger in her stomach at her response, _old habits_ , she reminds herself, but she tries to soften her remark by turning Clarke around fully and gripping her shoulders. “By time we come back the sheets will be changed, you’re not worrying about that.”

“Okay, but where would we be going? In case you forgot I’m not really expected to be roaming around.”

“That’s the beauty of it,” Octavia smiles briefly before she’s pulling Clarke behind her, but she’s still muttering; “…I’m pretty sure Miller is off, he can change the sheets! We have to stop at my tent first, grab you some clothes.”

“Octavia where are we going?”

“You’ll see!” and Clarke stopped her questions, because the excitement in Octavia’s voice reminded her of a softer girl from years ago, who wanted to chase butterflies and swim in the river. They definitely run into Miller on their way out of camp and he just raises an eyebrow at the strange request, he agrees to do it, but he’s demanding an explanation when they come back.

The ground feels weird below Clarke’s feet, it’s uneven and rocky and her shoes are untied and loose so she trips occasionally but Octavia doesn’t slow down. It’s weird because the air feels cleaner than it did before and the two suns seem brighter and she’s not sure where they’re going until they pass the clearing. Clarke feels a restriction build in her chest, but Octavia still has a grip on her hand so she tries to focus on that instead. When the hot-spring is in view Clarke can’t help the gasp that escapes her chest; “Octavia…”

“Just hang on Clarke,” Octavia stops a few feet away from the edge and Clarke is trembling, the younger girl wonders if this was a mistake, but she also knows it’s something that has to be done, “…please don’t freak out too much, but this was the only place we could have privacy.”

Clarke can’t really form a response, she can barely breathe and her vision is clouding and her knees are hitting the ground and she’s trying so hard to just not break with her arms wrapped around herself and she thinks of nothing but emptiness and the chill that seeped into her bones as she floated. She’s stunned when she feels soft feminine hands on her face, she wants to see her mom when she opens her blue eyes but she’s snapped out of her trance by the concern in Octavia’s green eyes. As quickly as the episode starts it’s over and Clarke can uncurl herself and she’s gripping Octavia’s wrists and Octavia is speaking quietly and reassuringly. After minutes or maybe hours, Clarke finally as her wits about her to look at the hot-spring. “Why?”

Octavia leans back a little bit and looks over at the calm pool of water, “You have to face this Clarke, you have to face all of it and if after you face everything you still don’t feel okay then we’ll face that together, but for now you need to face _this_.” She gestures to the water and Clarke snaps her eyes back to the girl she used to admire for her free spirit and admiration of her brother, before fear and blood became the only association to Octavia Blake.

“Why do you want help me?”

Octavia shrugs and looks contemplative for a few seconds; “Someone has to and if I’m being honest you were my first friend out of the Dropship, off of the Ark and somewhere along the lines that got lost.”

Clarke hugged her knees to her chest; “You know you don’t owe me anything for our past, if anything I owe you a whole lot more.”

“I know, but I need to do this for me too.” Octavia felt the wetness build in her eyes and she blinked furiously to clear it up, Clarke pretended not to notice, and then to break the tension Octavia stood up and extended her hand down –for the first time it was her leading Clarke to something better! “Besides, you kind of stink.”

Clarke laughed. It felt freeing to laugh so carelessly in the open air that surrounded her, albeit a little strange since they were wading into the water that almost claimed Clarke’s life. They didn’t go in very far, Octavia plopped down just beyond the bank to where the muddy edge of the water was no longer caking her toes. They had stripped down to their under garments, well, Clarke stripped down to her under garments. Octavia preferred to stick to traditional Grounder bathing techniques and went in full nude. They soaked for a while and splashed around and then Octavia dipped her head under the lukewarm waters, when she came back up seconds later she seemed fully relaxed. “I brought soap!”

“To make me stink less?” Clarke asked playfully as the girls passed the soap between the two of them. She would admit that the grime leaving her skin felt wonderful and the light floral scent of the soap –where did Octavia get soap?, was soothing. The moment came when Clarke felt her body was clean but she noticed the growing itch against her scalp and the greasy film that coated her fingers when she ran her hands through the knots of her hair.

Octavia had just finished washing her hair when she noticed that Clarke seemed to stop, so the younger girl took the initiative and made her way over to her friend. “Here, let me help you!” and to Octavia’s utter delight Clarke did let her. Soon the soft curls in her bright blonde hair were lifelike again. “When was the last time that you’ve washed your hair?”

Clarke shrugged, “Weeks, maybe… it just hurt to function and something as simple as going to the creek on the other side of camp to bathe was exhausting. It sounds pathetic, now that I think about it.”

“Or, maybe it sounds like a rough time and everyone has rough times.”

The girls splashed around for a little while longer, but once their skin started to wrinkle and the air began to drop Clarke figured it would be best to make their way back to camp. Previously, back before Mount Weather, Clarke’s disappearance in camp caused uproar and mass confusion. Given the way things stood she had assumed that was no longer a concern. Only to her shock when she and Octavia had made it back into the infirmary there were quite a few people in a fury. Most apparently had been Bellamy.

* * *

_In the moment,_

_I was falling down a well of hope…_

_When you caught me,_

_But you were falling more quickly._

* * *

The sun has set and Clarke is surrounded by a flurry of people in the infirmary and has been for the last couple of hours. True to Millers’ word the sheets and blankets on the small cot had been changed and Clarke couldn’t help finger the new pillow that found its way to her small space as well. The clothes from Octavia weren’t loose, they were snug but not uncomfortably so and it truly showed how lost Clarke had been in herself. How much of herself she had physically lost. Still, they were comfy and clean and she had to admit she _did_ feel better.

The pair had missed lunch and that had Murphy bringing food into an empty infirmary, which of course set off the mini search party (so they did not panic Madi). Clarke blinked in stunned surprise as Bellamy yanked her into his arms when she had come walking in behind Octavia, he didn’t even process the smile that was on her face but he noticed her hair was damp. He also noticed the feeble way her arms wrapped around him in response just before she pulled away. “What’s the matter?”

“What’s the matter?” Bellamy starts with his hands in his hair and the two girls in question look at each other in the same way with the same indication that someone has gone a little off the handle. Bellamy doesn’t seem to notice as he begins to pace the width of the small makeshift building. “You were missing! We couldn’t find you! Do you know what that’s like?”

Clarke shakes her head lightly; “Not really, I’ve gone missing plenty of times.”

He stops short and looks at her again, her arms are across her chest and she’s looking at him with a spark of defiance. He’s mostly relieved to see this living expression back on her face, but there is a part of him that can’t get past the worry and uncertainty that keeps him from focusing on that. “Where were you?”

“Where do you think I was?”

“If I had an idea I’d have gone there! You can’t just roam off on your own Clarke, do you not understand how serious of a situation that you put us all in?”

“I’m sorry, perhaps I didn’t.” She moves her hands to her hips and lets the burning anger that’s rested within her for so long explode. “It wasn’t a big deal two weeks ago when I’d go roaming off on my own and not come back for three days! It wasn’t a big deal that I missed meals for weeks on end! Nothing about me mattered to anyone at this camp until I almost died! Nothing about me mattered to you after you brought me back from Josephine… so why did it matter at the hot-spring? Tell me Bellamy, why does it matter now? I had my chaperone, I was under constant supervision and you know what, it was the best day I’ve had on this new planet! So why would you come in here and ruin that?”

Bellamy pauses and looks wrecked, absolutely destroyed and he’s so close to just losing his shit and everyone else that’s in the room can see it, but nobody moves and he’s left to rub at his face in frustration once more. “Of course you matter, you’ve always mattered.”

It’s such a simple statement but it’s so earnest and full that Clarke feels herself gravitate towards him. Her hands pull his down from his face and her fingers lace with his and for the next few moments they’re the only two people in the room. “Do you trust me Bellamy?”

“You know that I do Clarke, you know I do.”

“And do you trust Octavia?”

His deep brown eyes finds his sisters across the room and he’s letting out this small gust of laughter; “Fuck, of course, of course she’s my sister. I’ll always trust my sister.”

Clarke nods softly; “I’m sorry that I’ve put you and everyone else through so much in such little time, but you and everyone else was just content to let me wither away in that cot and she was the first person to come in here and call me on my shit.”

“The girl stank Bell…” Octavia pipes up quietly and makes her way over to the pair, “…and someone had to do something about that hair.”

“Your sister helped me today Bellamy, she helped me in a way that I don’t think anyone else could have.” Clarke pulls him over to a seat and pushes him down and then turns to acknowledge the small gathering of people. “Sorry that you all got roped into that, Octavia and I should have told you where we were going.”

“We didn’t get roped into anything.” Emori says from her spot next to Murphy, with her signature smirk and playful glint within her brown eyes. “We wanted to find you and we wanted to be here for you. That’s what friends do.”

Clarke looks around at the people before her; Miller, Emori, Murphy, Bellamy and Octavia, a few of the others from around camp that Clarke had talked with previously (and briefly if she may add), Diyoza and Indra are also there speculating the crowd. She sends a nod of thanks and makes her way over to the cot, but Octavia stops her. “We have to finish your hair!”

And that’s how Clarke finds herself around dinner time with all of these people around her. Octavia braided her hair so it wouldn’t be in her face or hanging loose _, just in case_ , the younger girl had emphasized, _we can’t get to the hot-spring for another spa day_. It was the most normal Clarke had felt in ages as she picked at her meal, she wasn’t fully hungry yet, but she knew what her body needed. As the evening drew to a close Diyoza was the first to step out, after all the baby needed tending to. Clarke had asked who would be staying with her that night and was shocked to see that Indra had her hand up. “Does that work for you Clarke?”

“Of course, just shocked that you’d volunteer for something so…”

“Out of the ordinary?” Indra finished for her and Clarke nodded. “Normally I’d agree, but I stepped forward to volunteer for two reasons. First and foremost when Jordan brings back the doctor from the village someone with an unbiased standing in the situation should meet them and ensure the safety of you and others that will be seeing them.”

“And the second reason?”

Indra smirked; “Well, when a warrior is hurt and healing with a watch party it was customary to believe that warrior was of great importance to their people. You, Clarke, are of great importance to our people and it would be a dishonor on my name if I did not stand watch.”

“I didn’t know that about your people.”

Indra shrugged, “Now you do.”

By the late night hours Bellamy, Indra, Octavia and Emori are the only ones left with Clarke. Murphy had been pushed to go to bed once he started dozing against the wall, Miller offered to walk him as Emori was engrossed in a traditional Grounder story telling circle. Soon the stories are interrupted by yawns and whispers and Clarke finds herself dozing against Bellamy’s shoulder. His fingers still laced with her own and he notices she’s asleep once her grip goes relaxed.

“Alright, that’s a sign for lights out.” Emori says softly as she stands up and stretches, she extends her good hand for Octavia and the taller girl follows suit. “She seemed happy tonight.”

Octavia looks over at the pair on the cot, “Yeah, but she’s been happy before.”

Indra looks to the girl she had trained, “Someone can be happy and still suffer Octavia. I think what is most important to remember from all of this is that seclusion and isolation can become even the strongest warriors’ downfall.”

“I just never knew she felt that way, I mean I know we weren’t the closest of friends, but I just always assumed I’d know if something was wrong with any of my friends.”

Octavia pats Emori on the shoulder, but before she can offer words of comfort her brothers’ soft voice carries; “Majority of the time she’s spent alive has been alone, even I didn’t know what to look for to see if anything was wrong.”

“No,” Indra responds, “the difference is that you _chose_ not to look for them Bellamy. It may not have been intentional, but Emori would have no way of knowing what to look for and you did.”

“Hey, he doesn’t need to be guilt tripped.” Octavia huffs out and Bellamy is grateful for that moment from his sister. “I think the bigger lesson in all of this is that we suck at being better. We’ve done great at doing better things and living better lives, but we’re all so broken that our pieces don’t line up. That’s nobody’s fault, it’s just nothing will ever change if _we_ don’t change.”

Everyone looks stunned at Octavia’s reasoning, Indra more contemplative and Bellamy more proud but stunned still. Emori smiles and agrees and soon the other two are following suit. “When did you get so smart little sister?”

“Well, someone told me it comes with age big brother.” The siblings share a moment before Octavia turns to Emori and then the two girls are leaving with linked arms and subtle giggles. It’s amazing, Bellamy thinks, because a week ago he couldn’t even remember if Emori and Octavia had ever truly met before. They hadn’t really talked either, but it seemed like that didn’t matter to either of them. The silence eventually sank between the two leaders.

“You should go and get some rest.”

Bellamy smirked at the motherly tone in Indras’ voice, “I should, but I don’t get much sleep knowing she’s in here all alone.”

“Is she alone?” Indra asked before she gestured to herself, “Bellamy you two have always had a very distinct bond. You’ve chosen each other over and over again, but to choose her over yourself right now would do her an injustice.”

“As usual Indra, I have no idea at what you’re getting at.” Bellamy laughs at the unamused look of the elder woman across from him. “I know she’s not physically alone, but…”

“But you worry that if you aren’t here when she wakes up from fighting her demons and doesn’t see you, that she’ll feel abandoned. Maybe she’ll even feel lost, but do you expect her to heal if she can’t find herself in those moments? Without you?”

Bellamy shakes his head, he does start to adjust himself so that Clarke is lying on the bed and tucked in and he’s stretching out his tired limbs before he answers. “I’m never there when she needs it the most. You were right, I chose to let her fight her demons on her own when I brought her back after Josephine, because that’s what we’ve always done. It was the wrong choice and I can’t keep making the wrong choices with her.”

He looks over at Indra and sees her staring back. He doesn’t start to make his way out of the infirmary until her eyes drop from his, like he’s being dismissed. Her voice is soft and lethal when she sends out her parting words; “If you help yourself, she’ll follow and then perhaps the two of you will be able to help each other.” He walks out the door.

“Who knows,” she says to the empty air as she turns her gaze back to the peaceful face of Clarke, “maybe then you two will finally find happiness. God knows you’re both in desperate need of it.”

* * *

_And here we are…_

_One of us is empty,_

_One of us is free…_

_And both of us know,_

_That it’s not meant to be…_

_So let it die easy._

* * *

Jordan had not ventured this far away from his community before, he had always been sheltered by the people his parents had been closest with. They didn’t let him go alone, he had a couple scouts with him that were picked by Indra and Diyoza. The current leader of these rustic like people had welcomed him with excitement and it appeared that they were more than happy to offer assistance. “We can’t thank you or your people enough for what you’ve done to help us.”

Jordan thought that was a little funny, considering that it was their people that had abducted Clarke and implanted a psychopathic soul into her. “Well, we weren’t going to just let Clarke go and we felt it was right that your people knew what was really going on with the Primes.”

“If we had known that the sacrifices for the primes weren’t voluntarily given we never would have supported it.” And Jordan believes the small woman that sits before him in the homey office. There’s a ceiling to floor book case against the far wall and large windows to the rear. The solid wood desk is sleek and shiny with papers and books and little notes laying all over –something that Russell had pointedly hidden on his desk. “Although we are sorry to hear about the difficulties your people are having.”

“It’s been a struggle, but mostly because we’ve never really had the opportunity to assess our mental well-being.” Jordan is honest in his assessment and the more transparent he is the better his mission will go. “Which, is something your people have had the time to do. I’m hoping that you have some professional resources I could perhaps utilize?”

The woman behind the desk nods enthusiastically; “Of course, of course! And we are in total understanding of sending one of our best psychologists back with you. The position would be temporary, perhaps six to eight weeks?”

“That seems reasonable,” Jordan leans forward to rest his elbows to the top of his thighs, “…are there suggestions for a long-term solution?”

“I suppose it would depend on the assessment of whoever you take back. We have several psychologists available to our citizens, now on a professional range they all specialize in a different aspect of behavioral medicine. You’ll be meeting with all of them and you can ask as many questions as you need, but I’ve taken the time to put together some basic backgrounds and profiles.” She moves to grab a brown folder that had been resting in the middle of the desk. “Feel free to look into them throughout the morning and this afternoon we can set up some meetings.”

Jordan takes the folder and begins to sort through, “Thank you… I mean we really appreciate all the assistance we’ve gotten given the circumstances.”

“Mr. Green, our people need to work together and the changes that have come to us since the exposure of the Primes have truly been for the better.” She stands up and leads him to a small conference room across the hall from the plush and lavish office. “Now, make yourself comfortable, I can have someone bring up some refreshments and once you’ve compiled your list of doctors to speak to we’ll get them here for you. If you need anything I’ll be just across the hall.”

He spends majority of the morning hunched over the paperwork. There are more than several people available to them, but of that three of them specialize in adolescence and children. While it may be beneficial to have a specialized eye come in and speak with Madi, the primary concern are the adults of camp. _Besides_ , Jordan reasons, _Madi is more of an adult than she is child at this point_. He is significantly more comforted the further into the folder he gets. It appears that they really can get some help and not just for Clarke –the most severe of the cases, but for everyone. There are a few male psychologists available and while Jordan is impressed with their expertise and recommendations he worries that Clarke (and therefore everyone else) wouldn’t be comfortable. Still he wants to talk to at least one of them.

After filing through an upward of thirty profiles he sets aside ten that he’d like to speak with throughout the afternoon. Sandra, who resides across the hall and is one of the political advisors for the people pops in right around lunch with some sandwiches and refreshments. He passes along the profiles he’d like to talk to and he validates his reasoning for skipping over the ones he’s skipped over; “While Dr. Karilyn seems great her specialty is with children and we don’t really have too many of those running around.”

“Not to worry Mr. Green! I’ll have my assistant head down to the medical offices and we’ll get some meetings set up. I’m assuming timely is better, but is there some leeway for meetings?”

Jordan shrugs; “The sooner the better, but I did leave with a two day window. Most importantly this is to find someone that can really help us, if a further delay is expected I’ll just have to send word to my advisors so they don’t worry… no offense.”

Sandra laughs, “No offense taken, let me see who we can get here first thing for you.”

Jordan spends the afternoon speaking to six of the ten specialists he had selected. They all answer his questions and they’re all completely understanding to the time away from home. Two of them have families and while Jordan felt comfortable with them and could see they were willing to work with him, but he didn’t want anyone to lost time with their kids over it. One, Dr. Susanne Lane, was a very no nonsense woman. She answered his questions directly with limited explanation, but managed to get him to open up with just a few questions. She was petite, but her bright eyes held a fire to them.

She was the one meeting that was finished within ten minutes; “Mr. Green, the fact of the matter is that there is no quick fix to the mind, we will only be able to do what your friend allows us to do.”

Jordan nodded as he watched the woman begin to get up, she wished him a good day and good luck as she made her way towards the door when he found his voice. “I know that this could all be in vain, but that’s just what my people do. I can’t give up or go half ass for her, because she’d never do that for me. Does that make sense?”

Suzanne smiled softly at the young man, “It certainly does and is admirable of you, good luck.”

Jordan spends the rest of the afternoon speaking with the remaining candidates and ended the day with Sandra offering to have him join her and her family for the evening. He felt it rude to turn down and found he enjoyed himself. The crisis of the Primes and the people involved with that left a shadow over their neighbors, a dark untrustworthy shadow. Communication was on a need to be basis and meetings were even more limited. Jordan wasn’t sure if this trip was like this because they were trying so hard or if these people were truly like _this_. He got very little sleep that night, part of him still on edge and not willing to fall asleep so easily with strangers but a bigger part of him concerned that his mission would fail.

As the suns shown through the following morning Sandra woke Jordan with a soft nudge and the promise of hot tea. They discussed his schedule for the day and then they were out the door and on their way. He spent the morning finishing up his meetings and asking his questions and was left with three options. He asked Sandra of the three who would be the most needed, which narrowed it down to two possible psychologists. “Alright, so we’ve made the decision?”

Jordan nodded, “Yeah, I think this is the best option available.”

Sandra nodded, “Well let me send someone to go talk to her and so long as she agrees you can be on your way this afternoon! I’m happy we could help you.”

“I’m hoping we can work together more after this.”

Sandra laughs, “Mr. Green you’ve read my mind.”

* * *

_One more minute and I’ll tell you how much it hurts…_

_It’ll all be finished and we’ll see whose heartache is worse…_

_There is no solution but to bury it all in the dirt_

_Relief is coming…_

_Who will muster up the courage to say last words first?_

* * *

Emori is freshening up Clarke’s braids when Diyoza pops into the infirmary with her baby. Clarke feels a pang in her chest upon seeing the little one, she misses Madi with such a fierceness it causes physical pain. The former enemy notices and offers the child up for Clarke to hold, “She’s fussy, but I’ve heard that’s normal.”

Clarke takes the baby and looks at her little face. She catalogues her baby hands and little toes and feels this serenity fall over her. She tucks the small child into the nook of her elbows and cradles her against her chest; “How are you feeling? Any difficulty nursing? Sleeping alright?”

Diyoza responds almost exasperatedly, “Sleep has improved, when she was just a couple weeks old it was impossible. She eats like she’s starving at every feeding, I was worried at first, but nothing in my gut is screaming that it’s not right. Overall, I’m feeling happy with this little cherub.”

“She’s cute as a button.” Emori praises as she hovers over Clarke’s shoulder to play with her fingers. “I can’t wait until she’s running around causing trouble.”

“Oh please,” Diyoza groans out, “…I don’t even want to think about that yet.”

Clarke chimes in with her own share of teasing, “If it helps Madi could use a lesson in humility, I volunteer her as your official babysitter.” Then Clarke continues to coo to the small child in her arms. The visit continues on for some time before the baby gets fussy and Diyoza takes her back into her arms. “Thank you for bringing her here today.”

“My pleasure, I like to share her.”

Emori can sense that Clarke is melancholy and wistful once their friend leaves the infirmary and she believes she knows why. “You miss Madi don’t you?”

Clarke nods, “Everyday… she gets a little further away from me. It’s like she’s just beyond my reach anymore and moved on.”

“She feels the same way about you.” Emori is quick to reassure her friend, least she gets distraught and distant. Jordan is expected back later that afternoon and Emori wants him (and whoever he has along with him) to see that Clarke isn’t a lost cause. “She’s always asking about you and how you’re doing, we told her you’ve come in contact with some kind of flu so we’ve kept you secluded to control it.”

Clarke nods along, “It’s good that she doesn’t know the truth, I’m not sure she’d understand.”

Left unsaid, so that she doesn’t blame herself, shoulder her mother like figures’ pain, to take it all onto her small shoulders. It’s the last thing Clarke would ever want for her daughter, likely the only child she’ll ever have.

“I agree, she’s young still and just starting to adjust to life beyond the commanders’ position. One day I think it would be a beneficial conversation to have with her, but I don’t believe it’s necessary right now.”

“Emori, have I ever told you how much I appreciate you?”

Emori smirks and pats her own shoulder, “Not officially or in as many words, but you have made it known. Do you think Jordan will be back soon?”

“Yeah, if he’s not already back. I find it a little strange that we haven’t had any visitors today.” Clarke got back to her stretching, it was an idea by Emori that today she focus on the conditioning of her fatigued body. Start to bring warmth back into her limbs and muscles and get the blood flowing once more. Emori joins her after a few seconds of contemplation and the girls go through a full hour of just stretches and breathing and moments of reflection.

“Well, it’s good to see you out of bed Clarke!” both girls turn at the familiar voice from the entry of the infirmary, “How are you feeling?”

Clarke shrugs and fights the immediate reaction to insist she’s fine and everything is okay again and everyone can go back to normal, because that would be a lie, so instead she opts for some muted truth; “Better than before, thank you. Was your trip successful?”

Jordan smiles broadly, “As a matter of fact, the doctor is finishing up with the council and then she’ll be over to meet you.” The young man makes his way over to the one of the other stations and begins to take note of the material that’s been used over the last couple of days –practically nothing, the weather was nice and members of their village were in good health. He answers the girl’s questions about his time with their neighbors and inquires some of his own. Overall he can’t say he’s displeased with what he sees in Clarke.

There’s a spirit within Clarke that wasn’t there when he left just two days ago, but the uneasiness of her shoulders is still there. Her eyes, although sparkling once more, are still haunted and her smile is plastered to her face and he can see the miniscule muscle spasm that takes place in her cheek. He’s excited for the opportunity to help her better. He’s confident that Dr. Karilyn won’t let this fake smile and persona go, that her skeptical and straight forward eye would see through any acting that Clarke threw at her.

* * *

_And in all these silly games,_

_We’ve found our world was just pretend_

_And I don’t know about the future anymore…_

* * *

Dr. Suzanne Karilyn was shocked when she was approached by the young Mr. Jordan Green. She found his mission admirable and his desire to help his friend sweet and sincere, but she was a realist. Realistically her statement stood true, people have to be willing to help themselves before the help works. Perhaps that was what his overall goal, or maybe he knew that his friend needed and wanted the help –not likely, she scoffed to herself lightly. Regardless, he came to her and asked if she’d be willing to assist him and she couldn’t help but say yes.

Suzanne was still young in comparison to some of her colleagues, but her studies are hereditary. Both of her parents had been involved in behavioral treatment for the people of Sanctum and her fathers’ father studied before them. It was natural for her to follow in their steps and she found she enjoyed it. The mind was perplexing, physically something as simple as an anti-depressant could solve the problem of the patient but emotionally… there was always multiple means of treatment. Primarily Suzanne didn’t speak with patients, not on the regular basis that some of her colleagues. She worked within the scientific realm of mind medicine and met with patients for the administration of medication, side effects studies and usage adjustments. The request of Jordan would be something entirely new for her.

Her sense of adventure, however, jumped at this opportunity. She had heard of their neighbors and how they had come from the same planet that her ancestors resided generations ago. She had heard of their wars and their time in deep sleep in the heart of space. She had heard of what Lightbourne’s had done to the young woman from space. The mere essence of the Primes went against everything Suzanne believed in and so naturally her disgust over what she had heard was expected. Still, she had just as many questions for them as they had for her and this new opportunity of study could be incredibly useful to both communities! Besides, she didn’t have a family that would miss her over the course of two months. Her parents would miss their weekly dinners, but it wouldn’t be the end of the world.

Suzanne prepared for the trip efficiently. Her travelling companion had assured her that she’d be able to do laundry, “We have watering holes for that, it’s not the most modern solution but it’s a good temporary step.” So she packed the bare necessities of clothing. She was also reassured that they had a full kitchen and bathing holes (she was a little more skeptical of bathing in a shared location with strangers). She decided to save more room for the medicinal resources she’d need and some textbooks and within an hour she was ready to go! The journey to Jordans’ home took less time than Suzanne had originally thought and when they could see the small smoke pillars from homes they changed direction of their conversation.

“Our council will want to meet with you first thing.”

Suzanne nodded, “Of course, this council I assume is like your government?”

“Yeah, it’s compiled of a group of leaders so that we can share responsibility and decision making in an equal manner. They’re great to work with, it’s just they’re very protective.”

“Well, it doesn’t hurt to have your leaders care for you like that.” Suzanne says the words she’s said many times over. Back before their new political system they had leaders who didn’t care about the average person. They didn’t care about their people, not in the way that she could see these people did. To send someone in search of a specialist to help one person? It spoke volumes of the lengths people are willing to go for friendship. “So tell me, who will I be meeting with?”

“You’ll be meeting with Indra, one of our trained military commanders. After you meet with Indra the rest of the council will be introduced. The council consists of Raven Reyes, John Murphy, Echo –who is actually away on a scouting trip, myself and lastly Bellamy Blake.” Suzanne nods along. “Bellamy is the one you have to be patient with.”

“Oh? And why is that?”

Jordan contemplates how to answer, he doesn’t want to overwhelm her before she even gets situated. He was honest when he told her that she could end up with multiple patients, but she was up for the challenge and he knew that. Still, some warning about Bellamy was necessary. “He’s our leader and I don’t mean just on the council, but he’s the one our people look to for the answers. He’s very attached to Clarke and he relies on her, he hasn’t handled this situation well at all.”

“I see,” Suzanne contemplates and mentally files the information for later, “…I’m guessing he doesn’t think Clarke needs help.”

Jordan shakes his head; “No, he agrees that she needs help. He can’t help himself until he helps her and I mean in general.”

“He’s emotionally attached to her?”

“I’ve never seen anything like them, but the man is so guilt ridden over what happened with the primes as it was Clarke that Russell targeted.” Jordan looks over to see how Suzanne files that and she’s nodding along to what he’s saying. “Bellamy isn’t going to be the most open to you.”

Suzanne can’t even find fault in his reasoning, she doesn’t even know the man, but just a brief description of Clarke and her personality can fill in the blanks of not knowing Bellamy. “I can’t blame him, that’s a grievous offense to strip someone of their identity to implant a long ago deceased soul into another living being.”

They’ve approached the edge of the camp and true enough there is a hard looking woman waiting. Her hair is short and her scowl is deep. Suzanne notices the way her arms only uncross upon Jordan’s greeting, but everything about her screams commanding and warrior. The young doctor is impressed by the power this stoic woman can possess. “Dr. Karilyn, pleasure to meet you.”

“I’m sure,” Indra doesn’t turn away the hand shake, she knows it would be seen as a mark of offense but she is not impressed with the seemingly weak grip of the young doctor, “…and you’re up for this?”

“Of course ma’am, I wouldn’t be here if I weren’t.”

Indra looks her over and nods once, “The council is waiting for you, and I’ll show you the way while Jordan checks in on your patient.” So the commander leads the doctor through the camp and then orders her to wait outside until she’s called by the council. Indra disappears inside the building and announces her presence. Seconds later Suzanne is welcomed inside.

“Doctor, please make yourself comfortable.”

Suzanne does as she’s asked by Indra and sits across from a rather unamused man. He doesn’t introduce himself, instead he eyes her skeptically in silence at least until the girl next to him nudges him and he introduces himself as Murphy. Almost immediately after the basic introductions the questions start. And they continue for a long time, although they start off simple enough they do progress into more personal realms. Nothing inappropriate of course, just oddly personal as if they’re trying to get to know everything about her in as little time as possible.

“Why you?” the Latina girl, Raven as she’s introduced herself asks bluntly and as it appears she’s the one that is not afraid to offend.

“You’ll have to ask Mr. Green, he had the chance to talk with many of my colleagues and he came to me with the offer and I accepted.”

Raven fires her next question with the same cold accusation as the previous one, “Why should we trust you?”

Suzanne blinks and looks at the faces surrounding the table. “You don’t have to trust me, you just have to trust that I can do my job.”

“A job she can’t start if you keep asking irrelevant questions Reyes.” Murphy bites out with a roll of his shoulders. “You’ve proven your point, you don’t hate Clarke and you want what is best for her, but I think it’s time for us to move this conversation along. I say the only way we’ll see how well she works is to let her work.”

“Shut up Murphy,” Raven bites out as she crosses her arms over her chest, “I’m asking questions to keep all of our people safe. I don’t care how well she holds Clarke’s hand…”

Bellamy, who has remained silent throughout most of the interview cuts Raven off sharply, “Watch it Reyes, your hostility is uncalled for.”

Raven rolls her eyes at Bellamy, but soon enough everyone is in agreement. Dr. Suzanne Karilyn is then left alone with one Bellamy Blake, she’s in the midst of gathering herself and is about to ask to be taken to where she could meet Clarke for the first time but his voice stops her.

“I’m sorry for my friends,” Bellamy starts as he reaches out to shake her hand, “I can show you where the infirmary is, if you’d like?”

Suzanne nods, “That would be greatly appreciated, I’m glad we have a chance to talk Mr. Blake. I was told that you have a rather stern attachment to Clarke and have been rather distraught over recent events.”

Bellamy sucks in his cheeks and lets out a long slow breath; “We all need a little help doctor, at the moment Clarke needs it the most even though she’ll fight you on it. She’ll deny it and tell you everything is fine, but it isn’t. I don’t think it ever has been.”

“Mr. Blake, denial comes naturally with cases like these and I’ve had very stubborn patients throughout my practices. However, I can’t lie to you and the reality is that people have to want to help themselves. My job is to offer ways to assist in that.” She follows Bellamy across the grounds and just before entering the infirmary she finishes her thought. “My offer stands for anyone that needs it, including you Mr. Blake.”

He nods once and as she steps inside she hears his voice once more, “I just need Clarke to be okay…”

“And from the sounds of it, I think she may need the same of you.” Dr. Suzanne Karilyn disappears through the small doorway into the infirmary to meet her biggest professional challenge. Bellamy’s plea rests in her mind and the hostility from Raven chafes against her personally. As she meets the clear blue eyes of her patient for the first time the young doctor is aware of two things, the first is that she’s never met so many people who shared a common goal around one individual person. The second, she had her work cut out for her and she worried eight weeks wouldn’t be enough.

* * *

_One more minute and I’ll tell you how much it hurts…_

_It’ll all be finished and we’ll see whose heartache is worse…_

_There is no solution but to bury it all in the dirt_

_Relief is coming…_

_Who will muster up the courage to say last words first?_


	4. Try Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go! It's been anticipated and I'm excited to say it is here! Things to look forward to; Raven and her growth, the building of the Madi and Clarke reunion, Bellamy learning its okay to not be okay... and the resilience of a fanfic author who had a computer malfunction twice during this chapter and had to restart it three times. My apologies for the delay and I hope you're all doing well. Ps; feel free to check out some of my other Bellarke works during the down time of me writing the next chapter. :)

_Today was a little bit harder,_

_My heart sank a little bit further,_

_I cried and you said we’d do better next time._

* * *

Madi knew something was wrong by the third day of being passed around between Raven, Echo and (much to her surprise) Octavia. On the fourth day when Gaia had approached with Indra and insisted that Madi join them and some others for training the young commander had needed the chance to spar out her frustrations. She noticed that her people were skittish around her, they wouldn’t make eye contact, but she could feel their pitying looks attached to her back as she walked away. The child in her wanted to stomp her foot and demand answers. The commander in her reminded her that weakness in its physical state is unacceptable. Until someone defied her outright she’d have to remain impassive. Still, impassive appearances couldn’t quell the nausea and fear as she noticed time and time again that Clarke wasn’t getting better.

They told Madi that Clarke had fallen ill. The young girl wasn’t fooled. Something was very wrong with Clarke and had been ever since these people came back into their lives. Just because the voices of the great commanders crowded Madi’s headspace didn’t mean she wasn’t able to hear herself. Her internal voice worked through endless possibilities in regards to Clarke’s sudden illness. It’s possible that her mother figure truly did fall ill suddenly and the precaution is in response to their newfound peace and life on the new planet. It wasn’t likely, Madi knew enough about Spacekru to know that they don’t follow precaution. She assumed that perhaps Clarke had received an injury that wasn’t treated properly, but it didn’t explain the sudden overbearing substitute parenting that Raven had started. It also didn’t explain why Madi wasn’t able to physically see Clarke for herself.

Logically this led her to conclude that Clarke had been intentionally injured or poisoned. Still, no matter how she asked ( _demanded_ ) or inquired or snuck around she wasn’t able to get to Clarke. Then Jordan shows up with a doctor from Sanctum. This stranger is given immediate access to Madi’s mom, with no background check or council vote. It was like they –these people that _ruined everything_ , these people she was supposed to trust unconditionally, had deliberately left her in the dark. She felt the anger leave her body throughout her training with the elder grounders. She respected them and had wanted to ask them for their view on the situation. Madi’s voice wouldn’t cooperate to do so and soon enough she was back in their settlement with Raven hovering and Octavia _touching_ her in what she thought was comforting touches. Finally after dinner she couldn’t contain her anger; “I want a council meeting.”

“Yeah, okay,” Raven agreed easily while she sat around one of the central bonfires. “When were you looking to call us together?”

“Now.”

Raven blinked a little in surprise; “Right now? Kid its kind of late, why don’t we wait until tomorrow?”

Madi shook her head, “That won’t do. I need to talk to the council tonight.”

“Uh, yeah okay. I’ll get everyone together.” Raven pauses once she’s on her feet, “Is everything okay?”

Madi doesn’t think the question warrants an answer. She realizes she’s acting out rashly, she knows she’s responding like a child and not like the commander, she _knows_ these things. Gaia had warned her to keep these childish instincts contained. Clarke threatened Madis’ position as commander, as Madi was told, and she had to put distance between her and the woman she called mom. It wasn’t the best decision Madi had ever made. She had watched Clarke slowly dissipate away from their settlement both physically and personally. Before she even knew what was happening, Clarke had become completely detached from their people! It wasn’t fair, but whenever Madi tried to talk to Gaia about it, she was told not to worry. Madi couldn’t be the commander if she was constantly worried about Clarke. Eventually Clarke stopped trying to be part of the commander’s life and therefore she stopped being a part of Madis’ life.

She dwelled on her concerns until the other members of her council filtered into the room. Everyone looked on edge and they all had the marks of bone deep exhaustion etched into their facial features. She noted the hostility that most of the group spread to Raven once the woman made her way in and sat at Madis’ right hand side. The seat that’s designated for Clarke, before they removed Clarke from the council; the young commanders stomach churned. “Well, let’s not delay this. I want to know where Clarke is.”

Ravens’ nostrils flare; “We told you, she’s sick Madi.”

Madi in turn just shakes her head and scoffs, “That’s not a good enough answer. I want to see her! I demand to see her!”

“Madi,” Emori starts softly as she leans into the table, “We promise as soon as Clarke is up for visitors you’ll be the first, but right now she really needs time to heal.”

“How sick is she? How come I was alerted immediately? What did you do to her?”

At this Murphy pinches his nose as he tries to answer the young girl’s questions, only to be interrupted by Raven’s anger. “ _We_ didn’t do anything Madi; we have never done anything to Clarke.”

Bellamy grunts, “Well, that’s not entirely true.”

“Shut up Bellamy.” Raven turns back to the youngest at the table. “You’re going to have to accept that Clarke just isn’t up for visitors at the moment.”

Madi shook her head; “No! No that’s not good enough! None of this is good enough, what is it that you aren’t telling me?”

Emori tries again, “Madi, we really can’t share the details, not yet. I promise tho—“

Madi doesn’t allow her to finish. “You can’t tell me? I’m her _daughter_! You’ve kept me in the dark for three days, you’ve had secret meetings to discuss her and then you ship me off to Gaia or Indra to distract me.”

“Well she isn’t actually your mother Madi.”

“What did you just say?”

The room grows silent and heavy as Raven pushes out of her seat. “She isn’t actually your mother; she found you and took care of you. She also hurt you. She made her choices, she pays her consequences. As the commander you shouldn’t even be worrying about this!”

Madi stands up as well, squares her shoulders and glares at Raven with such intensity that she can feel the headache forming behind her eyes. “She wouldn’t have had to hurt me if you people hadn’t showed up.”

“Madi, you don’t mean that.” Bellamy soothes from his seat. “I know you’re hurting and confused right now but, we promise we aren’t doing anything malicious here. We just want her to get a little better before she goes back into mom mode.”

“Actually Bellamy, I think I do mean it.” Madi refers to everyone at the table with a wide sweep of her arm. “Ever since you came back into her life she’s been pushed around, beaten down and left on her own! I have always been able to understand her decisions, no matter how stupid some of them could be! I have never questioned her judgment or her allegiance, but right now I’m in every right to question everyone at this table.”

There’s a pause as silence lapses over the group before Madi asks once more; “What did you do to her?”

“Maybe you should be asking yourself what Clarke did to herself. I’m sick of this Madi! We saved her ass time and time again and we’ve gotten no thanks. Even now, we’re taking care of her and you don’t even thank us!” Raven starts to make her way past Emori and Murphy towards the exit still ranting. “We should have just let her kill herself.”

Madi doesn’t have a moment to respond to that statement, because Raven is already walking out the door and right into Octavia. More accurately she’s walked right into Octavia’s fist. Raven has blood pouring from her nose and she’s yelling as Octavia stares at her from her position above her. “Would you like at that, Reyes has finally found herself back on the ground.”

“Octavia, what were you thinking?” Bellamy shouts out as he –and the rest of the table occupants, rushes out to the entry of the council room.

“I was thinking it was about time someone knocked Reyes down a peg or two.” Octavia doesn’t look bothered as she flexes her hand and then looks down at Raven again, “Are you done acting like an untouchable bitch yet?”

“You’re fucking crazy Octavia! You had no right to do that! I could have your ass for this.” Raven glowers as she stands back up and she looks around to see a wall of support from behind her, but instead sees angry stares. “Well?”

Emori shakes her head; “You’re out of line Raven. You had no right to make any of those comments back there.”

Raven tries to sputter out a defense but it’s when she over hears Madi talking with the Blake siblings that causes her rant to pause. “Clarke tried to kill herself?” she hears Madi ask with a trembling lip and glassy eyes and she watches as Octavia wraps her in her arms from behind while Bellamy gets to her level and soothes her. “All I wanted for the longest time was for Clarke to get you guys back… all that’s done is hurt her…I wish you had never landed in the valley.”

“Madi…” Raven starts to move forward but is stopped by Murphy.

Madi looks up at Raven in confusion; “How could you wish her dead? After everything she did for you? When is it enough Raven?”

Murphy grips Raven by the upper arm and pulls her away, “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

“I don’t need your help.”

Murphy huffs out one short and sarcastic laugh, “You don’t really have a choice, and you’re done making decisions until you’ve sorted your shit out.”

* * *

_This road seems a little bit longer,_

_Your words stung a little bit deeper,_

_You cried and you said you’ll do better next time…_

* * *

Raven Reyes was the hardest person to impress amongst the sky people. Realistically speaking, it had always been that way. Her skepticism and criticism is what kept her level headed and functioning during her life on the Ark and then those attributed to her intelligence and survival instincts on the ground –and by default to the world she lived in currently. Ideally she would have loved to say that she had at one point and time been as carefree and open with herself and her emotions as those around her! It would be a lie and Raven had spent most of her life dealing with the harsh truths of life and she couldn’t bring herself to lie.

However, she could deflect the truth. She could bend it. She could even deny it outright; it wasn’t like anyone would be able to call her out on it. She spoke enough of the truth that her own little lies and secrets meshed thus releasing the tension within her spirit and keeping her physical dominance intact. She could reason with herself afterward; _she had to hurt Bellamy_ , because it was for his own good to hear her say Clarke was dead. _She had to stand up for Echo_ , because she stood aside before and it cost her Finn, Clarke and Wick. _She had to strike Clarke down_ , because she couldn’t give into the false sense of hope that followed Wanheda. Nobody else saw it the way she did and she was alright with that, nobody else had to, because she already did. In the end it was all okay!

Sure; there was the issue with hallucinations causing everyone to confront their own fears and insecurities (the ache of no longer being needed still resonated within her bones). She also couldn’t forget the Josephine episode –she still worked herself to exhaustion over the guilt of not recognizing the signs sooner. And of course, there was Clarke’s suicidal episode! It’s occupied all of their lives for the last week and while Raven is total understanding and can sympathize with her once long ago friend, she’s also frustrated. To Raven there hadn’t been another woman braver or stronger than Clarke Griffin! There was never a more dedicated leader or warrior than Clarke!

And then it suddenly became possible that there was no one more broken than her. There was no one more desperate for relief than her. There was no one who could relate to her. There was no one who could help her…

_It wasn’t fair_ , Raven would often think, because Clarke had given up so much for all of them and not one of them could offer her even the slightest bit of support. Not one of them had been able to see the signs –and they truly were obvious. Not one of them was comfortable enough with Clarke that she could have reached out for help! How they could have gone from the team of young kids who led a war together to a motley group of strangers Raven would never know. The bubbling bursts of anger every time she allowed herself to talk about Clarke and her situation were uncontrollable! Because despite Clarke being all of these things that Raven wished she could be, despite Clarkes’ walls and masks and ability to fool everyone around her, it was always _Raven_ who had been able to see through it.

She saw Clarke when she was weak.

She saw Clarke when she was tired.

She saw Clarke when she was dead.

She saw Clarke in every decision she made as a leader. She saw her in every council meeting and in every group discussion that came with making life altering decisions. Raven saw Clarke when she cried and when she was silent. Raven saw Clarke in her victories and in her suffering. Raven saw all these versions of her best friend so consistently and immensely that sometimes it was easier to create a world where Clarke truly was dead; she died in Praimfaya while Raven found herself on a rocket back to the cold and empty halls of her youth. Sometimes she would imagine Clarke with her long hair and sparkly eyes and she’d talk to her, and this Clarke would always tell her its okay. This version of Clarke reassured her and comforted her. She loved this version of Clarke, because it was easier than accepting the person Clarke had become. It was easier to see this Clarke instead of the shell of her.

During the first three days after Bellamy and Octavia rushed through camp with her limp and cold body Raven was nowhere to be found. Their altercation had left both women wounded, but instead of allowing her wounds to air out and heal Raven had bottled them up and pushed them aside. Nobody was quick to defend her; they were all too busy pointing fingers and passing blame and Raven accepted it all with no protest. She shouldered the glares and attitudes gracefully and took her duty of seeing to Madis’ care seriously. If Madi ended up being the last piece of Clarke than Raven didn’t want to risk any way of losing her and so she gave false updates on Clarke’s sudden “illness” and she braided the young girls’ hair and she shared her own stories from her times in space both before and after Earth.

In all of her stubbornness and desperation Raven had never truly meant to upset Madi. She had never meant to speak so callously about the condition of her once friend and ally! The only person who seemed to understand was Murphy. He wiped the blood from her face with a gentleness she hadn’t expected (but, she always knew it was there) and he didn’t accuse her or scold her. He asked if she was okay and when she insisted she was fine he let her know he heard her, but he never believed her. It was his resilience that broke her, his determination to be there for a friend in such a sincere and hopeful manner caused her to burst into tears. She told him everything that night. He hugged her close while she sobbed.

He let her shove him when she expressed her distrust over them allowing some random doctor into their community. He let her hit his arm when she demanded better for them all, she wanted them to live and be happy and how can someone who has no idea what it’s like to live in fear all the fucking time come in and teach them the ways to do that? He let her kick at him as she exclaimed that it should have been them that Clarke opened up to. And when Raven had worked herself through her anger and despair it was Murphy that led her to a seat in her cabin and spoke the truth.

“Sometimes what we _want_ isn’t enough. You want Clarke to just be something that she’s _not_ , you want her to do these things but, she _can’t_ , not yet anyway.” Murphy waits for Raven to nod in acknowledgement of his statement before he grips her shoulders in both of his hands. “Clarke is not in charge of your happiness or peace, only you are. Until you can come to face that reality, until you can learn how to take control of that you’ll continue to compare yourself to someone her.”

“I don’t know how to do that Murphy…”

Murphy steps back and shrugs; “None of us do, but Dr. Karilyn can help us if we let her,” he goes to make his way towards her door, but throws his farewell over his shoulder lightly, “you’re the only one who hasn’t sat with her yet, so I guess tomorrow is as good a time as any.”

* * *

_Let’s not go to bed angry,_

_Let’s make up, let’s make sure we’re alright._

_Cause tomorrow the sun is gonna’ rise,_

_And we will try again…_

* * *

Suzanne was used to people undermining her. She grew up with parents in the same field as her and had to compete with them to be taken seriously. So she was used to it; to dealing with contempt and snide remarks. In most cases she saw it with grief counseling and in response to trauma. In the case of Skaikru there was plenty of reasonable explanation for it, but it didn’t help the bit of temper that lived within Suzanne when she had to face it. Raven Reyes sat across from her with no intention of paying attention to anything going on around her. She played with her nails and responded to every question with some level of sarcasm and avoidance. It was just another form of coping mechanism; Suzanne thought to herself, she’s seen plenty of those in the last two days alone. After her incredibly useful sessions with both the Blake siblings and Murphy she had hoped that Raven would be just as good.

The snark from the occupant of the chair across from her proved otherwise.

“Do you ever get tired of it?”

Ravens’ eyes glanced up at the woman in front of her. “Get tired of what?”

Suzanne –Suzie as Raven deemed her gestured around her with open hands as if she were motioning to everything. “Of this, of this pretence of cold indifference and constant fight, do you ever get tired of it?”

“Lady,” Raven snorted out, “I’m always tired.”

“So wouldn’t you want to learn how to rest?”

Raven took a deep breath and prepared to snap. Then she heard Murphy’s voice ring out in her head. Instead she took another deep breath and met the doctors eyes; “I don’t know what you want from me.”

“I want to help you!” Suzanne said with energy and passion, like she truly meant it, Raven mused.

“And I want to believe that, but how can I?”

“Well, you tell me. What do you need me to do or say to make you comfortable?”

Raven eyes her suspiciously, “I didn’t think that’s how this worked.”

Suzanne shrugged; “I mean, why not?”

“I don’t know if I can ever trust anyone again.”

“Let’s talk about that,” Suzanne urged on, “but only if you want to. We have plenty of time we can go back to you undermining my intelligence. Or you can start by just telling me some things about you.”

Raven groaned and threw her head back against the seat she occupied, “Alright, alright, and fine. I will cooperate to the best of my ability. My name is Raven Reyes and I was raised by a drunk in Mecha Station on the Ark in space. I relied on the boy next door, because he took care of me and treated me like someone important. I have a bum leg due to a gunshot wound from Murphy. I lived in space for another five years with my closest friends, my family and when we finally made it back down to Earth it was in shambles. Now here I am, my best friend is suicidal, everybody hates me and my favorite color is red.”

Suzanne blinked and responded, “Not what I anticipated, but definitely the right direction.”

“Well, there’s a hell of a lot more in between the lines, but that’s the gist.”

“Can we start with how you grew up?”

Raven smirked, “The alcoholic mother did it for you, am I right?”

Slowly the woman in the crisp clean clothing shook her head. “No, I have a lot of questions about living in space and nobody’s really mentioned it.”

It was Ravens’ turn to blink and stumble around for an answer. “Well, I mean, it wasn’t great, but, what do you want to know?”

Suzanne eased herself closer to the edge of her seat and leaved forward; “Everything, tell me as much information on the Ark as you want.”

“I mean technically it was just a space station that orbited the Earth. Originally it was twelve different stations that eventually joined together. From there different stations meant different things; housed different people. My station was Mecha and it was basically like mechanics and engineering and general maintenance stuff to the overall Ark. Most people in my station were happy, I guess and of average class.”

“So is that where you’d say you got your knack for technology?”

“I mean, yeah, I guess. I just loved learning and fixing things.” Raven paused before she voiced her thought. “How did you know about that?”

“You have some very impressed friends Raven. They like to brag and I can totally see the reason, can’t you?”

Raven couldn’t. Perhaps if she had been asked that question a few hours prior to her session she could have, but in that moment she just couldn’t. She never talked much about the Ark; there wasn’t a whole lot to dwell on. It was where she came from, where she was raised, but it wasn’t where she felt at home. She felt at home when she was tinkering and challenging herself. When she was learning and growing and ever since they’ve made a home on this new planet it felt as if she had less time to learn. She had less time to be herself. She had heavier responsibilities and the consequences were outrageous and it was suffocating. She thought the more sure of herself she acted the more sure her people would be in her.

She must have groaned aloud because Suzanne had asked what the issue was; “Alright, I’ll admit that I didn’t want to participate in _this_ ,” she gestures between the two of them, “but I’m beginning to see a purpose and a point. How often are you meeting with us?”

Raven left her session on a mission.

* * *

_I think we are a little bit stronger,_

_You held me a little bit longer,_

_I’ll fight and I know we’ll get better with time._

* * *

“I don’t see why we can’t just move Clarke into my cabin.” A disgruntled Bellamy pouts (sulks, complains, whines…) as he sits across from one Dr. Suzanne Karilyn. She’s tried for bulk of their session to make some progress with him, but almost all of his focus has been on Clarke or the other members of their community, or Octavia and Raven. He spent very little time actually addressing himself. Suzanne thought it was admirable, to a degree, but enough was enough. “She can’t possibly be happy in the medical bay.”

“Bellamy,” Suzanne starts slowly, like she’s approaching a wounded animal, “it’s a good thing that you’re worried about her wellbeing--”

“I sense a but in there.”

“ _But_ , I haven’t given her the clear yet. Besides, I don’t think it’s the healthiest option for the two of you.” She waits a breath for him to process what she’s just said and then before he can fight her on it she’s launching into her well thought out and professional explanation. “Clearly she means a great deal to you personally; and you to her! However, you both deserve the time and space to heal on your own. Clarke hasn’t expressed much about her living situation at the moment…” _she hasn’t expressed much in general_ , Suzanne thought to herself easily, “…I can ask her tomorrow when I meet with her, but until then I think we should table this particular topic.”

“Yeah, okay…” he accepts it easily enough but by the way he’s rolling his thumb and finger together indicates that he’s still anxious. “I just… just want her to know…”

She gives him a moment to gather his thoughts, although it’s clear after a few moments that he’s not willing to continue. “You want her to know…?” Suzanne gently probes him forward.

“Clarke and I, we have a complicated history. It’s actually pretty disastrous, but we had always been on the same team. I just want her to know that hasn’t changed, even with all of the other shit we’ve put each other through.” He rakes his hands through his already unruly hair. “Even with all of the shit _life_ has put us through.”

“What has life put you through?” She figures she may as well ask, but if he’s anything like his comrades he won’t answer the question.

“Life has fucked us sideways so frequently that if you turned into a monster with two heads and wanted to eat me I wouldn’t even be shocked.”

Suzanne nods along with an amused smile; “Creative, but that wasn’t my question. I asked what life has put _you_ through.”

“Does it matter?”

And it’s in the way that he answers the question that breaks the doctors clinical and calculating heart. “ _Of course it does_.”

Bellamy shrugs off her empathetic response, as if it doesn’t touch his soul and make him feel like he’s being heard. He’s a leader and his people are his responsibility. That’s how it’s always been in his life! The man that holds a seat within a council that represents the last of humanity and with that position came the literal weight of the world. It was just an assumed part of the job and he handled it well. Still, the only people who have ever truly cared about his overall wellbeing were Echo and Clarke. His dark eyes meet the doctors across from him, her eyes are a similar shade, but more analytical than his own. She looks composed and friendly, two things he doesn’t typically associate together.

“I don’t know what you’re looking for or where you’d like for me to start.”

_A break through!_ Suzanne thinks to herself as she subtly scribbles some notes down. “You tell me, I’d like to hear it all if you’re willing.”

Bellamy looks pensive and he looks all around him before he finally looks straight forward. “Has anyone explained the Ark and its purpose after the first Earth apocalypse?”

“I know the basics, with what Jordan has shared with me, but nothing extensive. That’s where majority of you came from, right?”

“Right…” and Bellamy begins, it feels like hours upon hours of him talking. He’s relaying the facts and if there are a couple times he has to be reminded that it’s _his_ story, not their story, and that’s okay. He starts with growing up in the lower class on the Ark, the rules and the fears. He talks about Octavia and his mother. He talks about how easy it was for his mother to be used and in turn his own manipulation. He talks about shooting Jaha, about the desperation and hopelessness that was resolved with one bullet. He goes on to talk about the ground, those early days and how uncertain and terrifying everything was. It’s when he mentions the Dropship closing that he starts to become hesitant.

“I think this is a good start Bellamy,” Suzanne finally responds after an awkward minute of silence, “I know that I don’t have a true understanding of some of the strife you’ve overcome, but if it ever becomes to know much to speak about you can always rely on alternatives.”

Bellamy looks more at ease now that the discussion has moved away from the talk of the mountain, Azgeda and the second apocalypse and, and, and… there always seems to be some other conflict for him to reflect on. “Are you suggesting I write it down?”

“Actually, that’s exactly what I’m suggesting!” Suzanne slaps her notebook closed and makes a move to stand up. “How about you take tomorrow to write down the parts of your story that seem the hardest to say, then we can go from there.”

* * *

_Let’s not go to bed angry tonight,_

_Let’s make up, let’s make sure we’re alright…_

_Cause tomorrow the sun is going to rise,_

_And we will try again_

* * *

She’s faced many problem patients in her time practicing. Stubborn individuals, who didn’t want her help, didn’t see the benefit of her help, and in some of the most difficult cases she had to have people removed from her practice. She didn’t let these people get her down or deter her from her work. Instead she used them as learning scenarios, how could she adapt her practices to be more welcoming? How could she make herself more transparent, more trustworthy? And in all her years of adaptation she still wasn’t prepared for Clarke Griffin. It was day _three_ with her and she still wouldn’t talk, about _anything_.

The woman was gorgeous; with her blonde hair and striking blue eyes and petite figure. She stood taller than most people that Suzanne had known and she could mask her true reactions and feelings perfectly. Truly, Clarke was going to be her most difficult case to date! Suzanne knew she couldn’t, wouldn’t, try and force Clarke to open up, but she had to try something. The two women had sat in a tense silence for over twenty minutes out of the sixty Suzanne was allotting for Clarke’s case. She felt at a loss, these people had been through so much that she wouldn’t be able to comprehend and she could never discredit their instincts. They were not trusting people.

“So Clarke,” Suzanne started after another bout of dust settled in the sunlight of the medical bay, “why don’t we start with just getting to know each other, does this sound like a good idea?”

An arched eyebrow and look of boredom was all Suzanne received as a response, but she hadn’t anticipated much else. “I’ll start! My name is Suzanne, but my dad calls me Suzie-Q, much to my dismay. I’m an only child; my parents were both older when they had me. I started studying the mind when I was in my late teens, with both of my parents as part of the psychology field in Sanctum it just made sense for me to follow.”

Suzanne notes the way the fierce woman’s fingers twitch at certain points in the one-sided conversation. She wonders if it’s a nervous tick or a side effect of the nerve damage done from Josephine’s chip. Suzanne runs her hand through her short dark hair, in contrast to her patient and lets out a soft little hum. “My favorite color is orange!” she states with a level of enthusiasm that shocked Clarke, “and my favorite shape is the triangle, there’s just something so pleasing about them.”

There’s another lapse between the two of them and then Clarke speaks for the first time in the session; “You know you don’t have to do this, pretend like you want to actually get to know me.”

“Who says I’m pretending?”

Clarke rolls her eyes and crosses her left leg over her right. “You’re here to do a job and to do that you don’t need to play buddy-buddy with me.”

“Clarke,” Suzanne leans forward a bit, “I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t sincere in my efforts to help you and everyone else that needs it here.”

“And if I don’t want your help?”

“Well then if what your friends’ have told me is true, I wouldn’t be able to make you one way or the other.” Suzanne leans back and drags her hands up her thighs, the scratch of her pants soothing against her palms. “But Clarke, I need _something_ from you. If you need something to go off of I can provide you assignments to work each night and then we’ll meet and talk about those.”

Clarke looks contemplative and nods. “What kind of assignments?”

“Well let’s start off with something simple! I’ve told you a little bit about me, now I’d like to get to know a little bit about you. So let’s say you list ten things you’d like for me to know about you. They can be as simple as you favorite color to as complex as your biggest fear.” Suzanne almost shouts with joy when Clarke nods her head and agrees softly. “Perfect! Now, I think that’s a good base for today. While you work on that I’m going to meet my next appointment in your meeting hall, who will be joining you for the rest of the afternoon?”

Clarke shrugged; “Not sure, but babysitting duty should be the last of their concerns.”

“I’d hardly call it babysitting Clarke…”

She snorts, “Yeah ok, have a good night doctor; I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow.”

And with the departure of one confusing and persistent Suzanne Karilyn, the silence that Clarke has started to miss returned. In seclusion the silence was heavy and terrifying, but now that she found herself surrounded by people at all times she marveled in those moments to herself. Sure enough, her moment was cut short by the presence of Octavia. Out of all of her assigned watches Clarke preferred the fierce former leader of Wonkru. Octavia refused to let Clarke lay around and she refused to talk to her in the tones of caution and pity like some of the others. That day was no different.

The girls did a riveting around of stretches before they went into a round of training. Clarke hated how far she had regressed, especially in comparison to Octavia who had maintained her physical fitness and stamina. “That’s the thing Clarke,” she said bent over at the waist with hands braced on her knees; “we all have our ways of avoiding our problems.”

“At least your way is productive.”

Octavia smirks and wipes at the sweat at her brow. “The doctor thinks it’s unhealthy, I rely too much on my anger.”

“What do you think?” Clarke pants out as they start another round of sparring.

“About the doctor or what she’s said?”

Clarke ducks an elbow and grunts when Octavia’s knee meets her side. She grunts out, “Both.”

Octavia dances on her feet once Clarke is back up straight, she’s anticipating a move and she won’t let the conversation distract her. “I think what she says makes sense. I’ve only met with her once so far, but it wasn’t all bad.” Octavia dodges a right hook but can’t block Clarke’s roundhouse in the same defensive move, so she takes the hit to her hip. “Fuck, I always forget how good at footwork you are.”

“Thank you!” Her opponent chirps cheerily. “I don’t know O, why would a successful doctor for Sanctum want to come here and help us?”

The girls both stop, if only because Octavia can see the fatigue starting in Clarke’s strained muscles and she can _feel_ it in her own. “Does someone have to have alternative motives to help someone else?”

“You tell me,” Clarke shrugs easily as they both collapse onto the soft ground. “In my own personal experience there’s always some kind of motive.”

Octavia doesn’t say much on it; instead she lets the silence between them settle like the dust they managed to kick up in their training. They sit like that until Emori comes wandering over saying she brought dinner. The three girls spend the early evening together talking. They discuss the happenings of camp and Emori does her best to make her lame attempt at gossip sound interesting. As the sun begins to the set Clarke remembers her assignment and digs around the medical bay for some paper and a pencil. It takes her a lot longer to come up with a proper list of information. While she doesn’t want to set herself up for negativity she also wants to be honest. When Jordan makes his way back after a day of working around camp with Jackson and a few others she’s completed her list and asleep.

To the kids credit he doesn’t read it, but it sits there staring up at him. Instead he tucks the old scratch blanket tighter around Clarke’s shoulders. The list sits undisturbed until the morning..

_~~My name is Clarke Griffin~~ _ _they call me Wanheda the commander of death_

_I’m an ~~orphan~~ only child_

_~~I have a daughter~~ _ _my daughter doesn’t need me anymore_

_I belong to no one_

_I have no family_

_I’ve betrayed my ~~mom~~ people_

_I have blue eyes_

_~~I draw so I can’t forget~~ _ _I’m an artist_

_I love the feeling of wet grass on my feet_

_I’m used to being alone_

* * *

_We will try again_

* * *

Madi found Raven that evening alone at one of the community fires and although anger still seethed within her, the hurt is what she focused on. She made her way over and kicked at the log that her (former) idol sat upon; “Hey…”

Raven looked up in surprise, “Madi, hey! What’s up?” she finished lamely.

“I got your note and that you wanted to talk.”

“Do you want to talk here or back at my cabin?”

Madi looked around with a blank expression, “I’d rather stay out here.”

“Okay,” Raven nodded and then scooted herself over to make room for the young girl, “take a seat. So uh, I think I owe you a bit of an explanation and I definitely owe you an apology.”

“So apologize.”

_Just like her mother_ , Raven thought, but this time there was a bite to the words. “I’m sorry Madi.”

“For?” Madi insisted once Raven let silence settle between them.

“Jesus, you don’t make this easy kid.” She attempted at humor, but there was no warm light in the young girls’ eyes. “I shouldn’t have exploded the way I did the other night. It’s just been hard and things between Clarke and I haven’t been okay in a long time.”

Madi snorted, “That’s an understatement. But you know what?”

“No, what?”

“Clarke relies on you time and time again, she trusts you, and you’ve never let her down.”

“Yeah, well, that doesn’t make us okay. I ignored Clarke and her feelings fever since I found out that Shaw didn’t make it. I pushed her away and blamed her, because it felt comforting to have someone to blame. I manipulated you too and I’m sorry. I just wanted you to know that I didn’t mean anything I saidthe other night and I never meant to hurt you or her and even if you think we screwed everything all up when we got back to Earth…” she paused to gather her emotions up, “… even if it was the biggest mistake we could have made, I’ll never regret it. The moment I heard your mom speak over radio to us, the moment we landed and I got to see her? Are the most precious moments I have and I promise I’m going to do better.”

Madi looked into the fire; “Maybe someone should have told _her_ that.”

* * *

_Let’s not go to bed angry tonight,_

_Let’s make up, let’s make sure we’re alright,_

_Cause tomorrow the sun is going to rise…_

_And we will try again._

**Author's Note:**

> If you haven't already, please go check out Lewis Capaldi's beautiful song Before you Go! It's the inspiration behind part one and I believe it's message is important.


End file.
